THE  RED  BUG 

AND  THE 

BAY  DOE 


■/ 


WM.L,AURIE  HIL^l, 


A 


STEPHEN  Bo  WEEKS 

CLASS  OF  1886;  PH.D.  THE  JOHNS  HOPKINS  UNIVERSITY 

OF  THE 

uNnvERsmf  OF  mmM  catooma 

ME  WEEKS  CdDULECTlKDN 

OF 

CMOLINMNA 


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This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO 
WEEKS  ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine 
of  FIVE  CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  was 
taken  out  on  the  day  indicated  be]ov>' : 


21  J«^  i* 

2Z  l^"^^' 


WILLIAM  LA U HIE  HII.L 

AUTHOR  OF   "tHK  MASTKK   OK    I  HK  HKli   BUCK 
AJSD  THK  BAY  JJOE*' 


Annnuur^m^ut 


We  propose  to  issue  in  September  the 
initial  volume  of  a  series  of  Historical 
Stories  to  be  known  as 

(Ehp  Ptup   m\h  ahtatlr 

from  the  pen  of  WILLIAM  LAURIE 
HILL,  of  Barium  Springs,  N.  C. 

The  first  of  the  series  will  be  "THE 
MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 
AND  THE  BAY  DOE."  Price  $1.50. 
A  tale  of  Whig  and  Tory  warfare  in  the 
Carolinas  in  1781-5,  based  on  true  in- 
cidents of  a  strikingly  thrilling  and 
entertaming  nature.  Names  of  men 
well  know^n  in  our  Colonial  History 
\vill  appear  as  living  characters,  and 
the  book  is  written  with  a  view  to 
preserve  history  and  give  the  present 
generation  some  idea  of  the  sacrifices 
made  by  their  ancestors  in  securing 
the  heritage  they  have  left  to  their 
children. 


Should  this  book  meet  with  approval, 
the  next  of  the  series  will  be  "THE 
STARS  AND  BARS  AT  HOME 
AND  ABROAD,"  a  Romance  of  the 
Confederacy,  showing  the  South  du- 
ring the  stormy  days  between  1861 
and  1865,  and  giving  glimpses  of  the 
struggle  as  seen  from  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic.  It  will  be  a  book  of  thrilling 
interest,  without  a  thought  or  expres- 
sion that  would  stir  up  strife,  or  that 
could  not  be  read  w^ith  pleasure,  North 
or  South. 

We  issue  this  announcement  in  ad- 
vance of  publication,  and  should  be 
pleased  to  receive  orders  for  delivery 
during  the  autumn. 


STONE    PUBLISHING    CO. 

CHARLOTTE,  N.  C. 


Polly   Rutherford  Scurlock 


THE  MASTER  OF 

THE   RED  BUCK  AND 

THE  BAY  DOE 

A  STORY  OF  WHIG  AND  TORY  WARFARE 
IN  NORTH  CAROLINA  IN   1781-83 


BY 

WILLIAM  LAURIE  HILL 


'Tis  with  the  rav'Ungs  and  threads  of 
History  we  weave  Romance. 


STONE    PUBLISHING    CO. 

CHARLOTTE,    N.  C. 
1913 


COPTHIGHT,  1913,  BT 

WILLIAM  LAURIE  HILL 


7^ 


FOLD  OUT 


DEDICATION 


To  the  Honorable  Mark  Morgan  of  Laurel  Hill, 
Scotland  County,  North  Carolina,  would  I  dedicate 
this  effort  to  portray  life  in  the  Carolinas  in  the  dark 
days  of  Whig  and  Tory  Warfare  during  the  Ameri- 
can Revolution. 

Mark  Morgan  is  the  product  of  North  Carolina 
brain,  brawn,  and  blood.  A  man  of  the  people,  and 
one  who,  in  his  days  of  prosperity,  has  not  been  re- 
moved from  friendly  touch  with  the  homely  Tar  Heel. 
His  wealth  is  untainted,  and  his  liberal  soul  finds  a 
place  for  liberality  unfettered  by  denominational  creed. 

^Vherever  this  book  shall  be  read,  the  author  is 
desirous  that  the  reader  shall  (through  this  dedica- 
tion) make  the  acquaintance  of  Mark  Morgan,  a  man 
who  will  live  in  noble  disinterested  deeds  when  this 
generation  shall  have  passed  away. 

Wm.  Laurie  Hill. 

"Deeds    are    fruits,    words    are    but    leaves." 

Florae  Mastse,   Robesox   County, 

North  Carolina. 
January   1st,   1906. 


NO 


THE   MASTER    OF   THE    RED 
BUCK  AND  THE  BAY  DOE 


CHAPTER    I 

THE     GOSPEL     ACCORDING    TO     KING    GEORGE 

In  the  old  County  of  Chatham^  in  North  Carolina, 
dating  its  existence  back  to  the  year  1770^  and  being 
named  in  honor  of  Sir  William  Pitt,  Earl  of  Chatham, 
who  boldly  championed  the  cause  of  the  Colonies  in 
the  English  House  of  Lords — there  dwelt,  during  the 
perilous  period  ushered  in  with  the  year  1781,  a  war- 
worn and  much  divided  people.  There  were  many 
brave  followers  of  the  Colonial  cause  who  gladly  gave 
their  best  services  to  what  seemed  "a  forlorn  hope." 
Many  of  these  brave  men  were  in  the  field,  following 
the  fortunes  of  the  Continental  army — were  in  the 
forefront  at  Brandy  wine,  Camden,  Cowpens,  and  Guil- 
ford Court  House — while  their  wives  and  daughters 
were  plying  the  needle,  the  loom,  the  hoe  and  plow, 
to  furnish  clothing  for  husbands  and  sons ;  food  for 
the  army;  and  to  sustain  the  dependent  ones  of  their 
families. 

Those  Spartan  women  were  much  harassed  and  per- 
secuted by  organized  bands  of  men,  who,  although 
native  born,  and  in  the  sense  of  contiguity  only  were 
neighbors,  proved  to  be  greater  enemies  than  the  for- 

l 


2    THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

eign  foe.  They  were  known  as  Tories,  which  was  an 
Irish  name  for  "Robbers/'  and  in  their  zeal  for  the 
cause  of  King  George  did  not  hesitate  to  rob,  burn, 
and  otherwise  destroy  the  substance  of  women  left  at 
times  at  their  mercy.  A  third  class  were  "Neutrals," 
chiefl}^  Quakers  and  timid  men,  who  feared  to  stand  by 
either  side  in  this  mighty  struggle,  choosing  rather  to 
be  "all  things  to  all  men,"  that  they  might,  if  possible, 
save  their  property  from  spoliation  by  either  side. 

It  was  a  period  of  deep  gloom,  and  there  came  on  an 
ill-fated  Sabbath  morning  to  a  country  meeting-house 
not  far  from  the  mouth  of  Brush  Creek,  a  man  whose 
appearance  was  both  singular  and  forbidding.  He  had 
chosen  well  the  neighborhood  in  which  he  should  first 
begin  his  crusade  for  King  George,  as  there  was  quite 
a  nest  of  Tory  friends  of  the  King  dwelling  along 
Brush  Creek,  many  of  them  willing  to  enlist  in  his 
service. 

The  gray-haired  old  preacher,  familiarly  known  as 
"Father  Davy  Rowe,"  was  a  man  of  peace,  and  the 
text  chosen  for  his  morning  homily  gave  evidence  that 
in  the  evening  of  his  days  he  preferred  quiet  subjection 
to  King  George  rather  than  strife  for  a  yet  remote 
freedom.  Shaking  his  long,  gray,  wavy  hair  back 
from  his  piercing  black  eyes,  he  announced  in  deep 
tones — "My  friends,  you  will  find  in  Proverbs,  the 
27th  Chapter  and  8th  Verse,  these  words:  'As  a  bird 
that  wandereth  from  her  nest,  so  is  a  man  that  wan- 
dereth  from  his  place.'  These  words  come  to  us  along 
with  a  whole  chunk  of  other  wise  sayings ;  and  they 
are  believed  to  have  been  writ  by  King  Solomon  his- 
self,  who  sartinly  knowed  what  he  was  a  talkin'  about 
in  his  times;  and  it  'pears  like  he  was  a  lookin'  a  long 
way  ahead,  and  could  see  that  men  was  jest  as  liable 


GOSPEL   ACCORDING    TO    KING    GEORGE      S 

ter  be  fools  in  this  year  of  our  Lord  as  they  was  in 
his  day  and  time. 

"Now,  it's  a  wise  bird  that  always  builds  her  nest  in 
a  safe  place.  You  know  birds  differ  in  this,  and  some 
are  jest  like  some  folks — they  don't  seem  to  keer  whar 
they  build;  hain't  got  one  grain  of  common  sense;  while 
other  birds  is  that  particular  you  would  think  they  had 
studied  nest  buildin'  as  a  science.  Thar's  a  patridge — • 
she  jest  goes  out  into  the  oat  field  and  rakes  a  few  sticks 
and  straws  together,  and  calls  that  her  home,  and  is 
sure  to  be  ousted  in  harvest  time  before  the  little  ones 
is  able  to  stand  the  move.  But  you  don't  ketch  a 
flicker  playin'  the  fool  like  that.  She  picks  out  some 
hollow  tree,  pecks  a  hole  big  enough  for  a  door,  goes 
up  high  where  the  boys  darsent  venture,  and  she  has 
a  nest  wherein  she  and  her  young  uns  are  safe. 

"Some  boys  was  always  fond  of  fightin'  yaller  jackets 
— smokin'  'em  out  of  thar  holes  in  the  side  of  a  gully, 
and  they  a  lyin'  down  in  the  broom  sage  ter  watch 
the  pesky  little  creatures  flyin'  around  and  a  lookin' 
fer  thar  enemy.  I  always  respected  even  yaller  jackets, 
and  thought  that  thar  nests  ought  to  be  safe  from  the 
wisp  o'  straw  and  the  chunk  o'  fire  bad  boys  know  so 
well  how  to  have  handy  when  they  want  to  do  any 
devilment.  I  knowed  two  boys  oust,  and  one  un  'em  is 
sittin'  down  thar  in  the  amen  corner  now,  with  a  wife 
and  a  likely  darter  'longside  o'  him;  as  the  tother  isn't 
here  I'll  call  his  name.  Well,  Amos  Barkley  and  my 
amen  corner  member  thar,  they  undertook  onst  ter 
smoke  out  a  whole  nest  er  yaller  jackets,  but  so  mad 
did  them  little  yaller  fellows  get  that  even  the  broom 
sage  wouldn't  hide  them  boys.  Amos  he  got  away  with 
considerable  less  than  a  thousand  stings,  while  'Amen' 
reached  home  with  a  head  almost  as  big  as  my  old  oak. 


4    THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

r 

split  corn  basket,  and  if  his  sweetheart  had  only  seed 
him  then,  that  likely  gal  would  never  have  been  bom, 
and  that's  a  fact. 

"Yes,  my  hearers,  meddlin'  with  nests  is  danger- 
some,  whether  the  nest  is  a  yaller  jacket's,  bee  martin's 
or  folks;  and  they  that  indulge  in  sich  undertakin's  is 
sure  in  the  end  to  have  thar  own  nests  broke  up,  and 
thar  young  uns  scattered  in  the  woods,  seekin'  rest, 
and  findin'  no  place  whar  they  can  be  safe  and  rest 
easy;  and  that's  a  fact.  But  some  un  you  will  say, 
'What's  all  this  got  to  do  with  Parson  Davy  Rowe's 
text?'  and  'We  wonder  if  he  has  changed  his  'legiance 
from  good  King  George? — for  surely  some  o'  his  folks 
is  doin'  unlawful  things  and  meddlin'  with  our  nests/ 
Not  so  fast,  my  hearers;  I  do  not  say  but  what  our 
Clarks,  Registers,  and  folks  that  be  commissioned  to 
collect  taxes  and  fees  be  a  leetle  graspin'.  Sich  folks 
harried  the  Jews  in  the  days  o'  our  Savior;  but  re- 
member, the  Savior,  although  Lord  o'  Heaven  and 
earth,  paid  his  taxes  like  a  man,  and  wrought  a  miracle 
to  do  it.  Bein'  as  he  hadn't  the  ready  change  by  him 
at  the  time,  he  sent  a  hand  (and  one  of  his  best,  being 
Peter)  who  cotch  a  fish  with  a  piece  o'  money  in  his 
mouth;  and,  with  that  money,  he  paid  his  taxes,  and 
Peter's,  too,  although  Jesus  mought  have  claimed  to 
go  tax  free,  for  Heaven  and  earth  belonged  to  him. 

"Now,  thar's  Joel  Sowell,  who  married  last  January 
one  of  the  finest  gals  in  all  Brush  Creek  Country,  who 
kicked  like  all  possessed  because  the  Clark  charged 
him  twenty  shillin's  fer  a  license;  and  when  her  daddy 
deeded  to  him  two  hundred  acres  o'  Brush  Creek  land, 
he  kicked  ag'in  because  the  Register  charged  forty 
shillin's  fer  puttin'  it  on  the  book.  Thar's  Luke  Stal- 
lins  a  goin'  about  and  tellin'  people  that  Herman  Hus- 


GOSPEL   ACCORDING    TO    KING    GEORGE      5 

bands,  who  has  been  tried  over  in  Orange  as  a  turbu- 
lent and  seditious  character,  is  a  pure  patriot,  a  much- 
abused  citizen;  and  I  hear  tell  that  a  preacher  named 
Dave  Caldwell  is  rampagin'  the  country  over  thar 
around  old  Alamance  meetin'  house,  tellin'  the  people 
that  'they  are  doin'  God's  service  ter  rebel  ag'in'  good 
King  George,  and  that  this  province  o'  rights  ought 
to  be  free  o'  kingly  rule/  Now,  my  hearers,  Saint 
Paul  is  pretty  good  authority  fer  me;  I  don't  know 
what  the  (Reverend  David  Caldwell  thinks  o'  him. 
Now,  Paul  said  in  writin'  to  the  church  in  Rome — 
'Let  every  soul  be  subject  unto  the  higher  powers;  for 
there  is  no  power  but  of  God;  the  powers  that  be  are 
ordained  of  God.'  That's  the  kind  of  Gospel  I  am 
preaching  to-day. 

"Less  than  a  century  ago  this  province  was  a  waste- 
howlin'  wilderness;  the  abode  of  savage  men  and  wild 
beasts.  Through  the  kindness  and  protection  of  the 
English  nation,  our  fathers  was  helped  in  thar  efforts 
to  colonize  this  wilderness;  and  to-day  we  see  snug 
nests,  thrifty  homes,  whar  onst  the  Indian  roamed  at 
will.  The  feeble  child  have  become  a  strong  man; 
the  son  thinks  his-self  bigger  than  his  daddy;  the  bird 
is  wanderin'  from  his  nest.  Now,  my  hearers,  what 
is  to  be  the  upshot  of  all  this? — is  the  child  America 
bigger  and  stronger  than  King  George  and  his  mighty 
hosts?  Nay,  verily,  and  I  see  trouble  upon  trouble, 
and  that's  a  fact.  Brother  is  now  ag'in'  brother,  father 
ag'in'  son ;  the  darkness  of  many  a  night  will  be  lighted 
by  the  fires  of  burning  dwellings  and  barns;  homes 
will  be  desolated;  children  fatherless;  mothers  widows; 
and  all  fer  what?  Better,  far  better  'bear  the  ills  we 
have  than  fly  to  those  we  know  not  of.'  That  is  what 
\Villiam  Shakespeare  said,  and  he  knowed.     We  have 


6    THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

got  the  substance  now,  most  un  you  have  got  good 
nests,  and  we  have  over  us  the  protecting  arms  of 
King  George.  Those  that  wander  from  thar  place  are 
a  chasin'  shadows;  are  like  foolish  birds  that  wander — 
their  nests  will  be  broken  up,  their  substance  scattered, 
and  on  wandering  wing  they  will  seek  an  unfound  rest. 

"I  see  in  this  congregation,  out  there  in  the  grove,  a 
man  I  have  seen  afore,  and  I  have  hearn  he  has  a  fresh 
message  from  the  officers  of  our  good  King.  He  has 
heard  some  of  my  discourse,  and  he  knows  whether  I 
have  told  the  truth  as  to  the  upshot  of  all  this  rebel- 
lion. He  knows  the  strength  of  King  George,  the 
weakness  of  the  feeble  folk  that  now  oppose  him. 
When  the  congregation  is  dismissed  you  will  hear  some 
strong  words  from  Colonel  David  Fanning,  who  holds 
a  commission  in  the  Royal  army. 

"And  now,  may  the  hand  of  Almighty  God  stay  this 
tide  of  sinful  rebellion;  give  this  people  grace  to  live 
for  him  and  for  their  King  and  country.     Amen." 


CHAPTER    II 

BRUSH    CREEK    CONGREGATION    HEAR    DAVID    FANNING 

The  people  gathered  on  this  Sunday  morning  were 
a  fair  sample  of  a  country  congregation  in  North 
Carolina  at  the  period  of  which  we  are  writing,  when 
neighbor  was  arrayed  against  neighbor,  and  a  man's 
enemies  were  often  those  of  his  own  household.  Father 
Davy  Rowe  was  of  the  Baptist  faith  and  order,  but 
there  were  many  in  his  congregation  who  had  been 
reared  under  Presbyterian  and  Quaker  influence,  and, 
while  not  members  of  the  Baptist  church,  attended  at 
Brush  Creek  because  of  their  respect  for  religion  in 
general,  and  because  no  more  congenial  place  of  wor- 
ship was  near  them. 

Father  Rowe  wrought  at  wheelwright  and  black- 
smithing  during  the  week,  and  filled  his  appointment 
at  Brush  Creek  on  Sundays  with  great  punctuality,  free 
of  charge  for  his  services,  as  he  proudly  proclaimed 
his  belief  in  a  free  Gospel.  Personally,  he  was  be- 
loved by  all  his  neighbors,  although  those  of  them 
who  did  not  believe  in  his  "Gospel  according  to  King 
George"  had  many  a  debate  with  him  as  he  stood  by 
his  anvil,  sledge  in  hand,  his  face  begrimed  with  smut 
from  the  forge. 

On  this  bright  Sunday  morning  Father  Davy  was 
clean  shaven,  had  on  his  best  suit  of  home-woven  linen, 
seemed  particularly   strong  in  the   faith,   and   his   ad- 

r 


8    THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

herents  gathered  about  him  as  he  came  down  the  pulpit 
steps,  while  a  majority  of  those  who  had  kinsfolk  in 
the  ranks  of  the  Continental  army  adjourned  to  the 
grove  and  to  a  discussion  of  their  dinner  baskets,  as 
well  as  the  sermon. 

Walking  up  to  the  stranger  whom  many  now  knew  to 
be  David  Fanning,  Father  Davy  extended  his  hand, 
saying,  "If  this  be  David  Fanning,  I  am  glad  to  wel- 
come ye,  and  I  want  you  to  tell  the  people  some  more 
about  good  King  George.     Can't  ye  preach  .f*'* 

"I  am  David  Fanning,"  was  the  reply,  "but  my 
callin'  isn't  to  preach;  I  am  an  officer  under  King 
George,  and  am  here  to  tell  your  people  that  are  in 
rebellion  some  mighty  plain  truths." 

"That's  right;  mount  that  stump  thar  and  tell  these 
people  whether  I  told  'em  the  truth  or  not  this  morn- 
m . 

"Indeed  you  did.  Father  Rowe,  but  you  didn't  tell 
it  all." 

Responding  to  Father  Rowe's  invitation,  Fanning 
then  proceeded  to  harangue  the  people,  and  many 
Whigs  and  their  sympathizers,  leaving  their  dinner 
baskets,  drew  near  to  listen  to  the  new  "Apostle  of 
King  George,"  as  one  of  them  called  him. 

"I  am  a  stranger  to  most  of  ye,  although  I  have  met 
Father  Rowe  before,  and  am  glad  to  hear  him  giving 
this  people  the  pure  doctrine — what  I  call  'Loyalty 
Gospel.'  To  those  who  are  true  to  King  and  country 
I  would  say;  Stand  to  your  colors  and  fear  naught 
that  this  rebellious  people  can  do.  I  have  recently 
seen  Major  Craig,  his  Majesty's  trusted  commanding 
officer  at  Wilmington,  and  am  commissioned  to  rally 
around  me  all  true  and  loyal  men  in  this  part  of  the 
Province,   and  to  suppress   disloyalty  wherever  I   find 


CONGREGATION  HEAR   DAVID  FANNING      9 

it.  The  King  would  have  a  peaceful  and  prosperous 
Province  but  for  disloyal  spirits  who  defy  all  laws 
unless  they  make  them,  and  pay  no  taxes  unless  their 
tools  collect  them.  To  the  disloyal  I  would  say:  Re- 
turn to  your  homes,  to  your  plows,  looms,  workshops, 
and  obey  the  laws  as  administered  by  authorized  offi- 
cers of  the  Crown,  and  all  will  be  well.  You  are  en- 
gaged in  a  hopeless  struggle,  a  wicked  rebellion,  and 
the  King,  in  this  war,  is  sure  to  conquer.  Picture  to 
yourselves  this  Province  conquered;  where  then  would 
those  now  in  rebellion  find  a  place  of  refuge?  Like 
the  sons  of  Ishmael,  every  loyal  hand  will  be  against 
you,  and  a  few  thousand  homeless  fugitives,  you  and 
your  little  ones  will  be  seeking  safety  in  our  mountain 
solitudes,  only  to  find  at  last  that  loyal  men  control 
even  that  part  of  our  sod. 

"Any  true  men  here  who  desire  to  enroll  themselves 
in  the  army  of  King  George  will  hand  in  your  names 
to  John  Rains,  a  man  who  will  lead  you  where  all 
brave  men  go;  and  we  will  all  join  hands,  my  friends, 
in  putting  down  this  spirit  of  rebellion  which  King 
George  is  willing  to  forgive  if  abandoned,  but  is  de- 
termined to  conquer  regardless  of  loss  in  blood  and 
treasure." 

As  Fanning  closed  his  harangue,  which  was  much 
longer  than  as  recorded  here,  John  Rains  produced  a 
muster  roll  and  succeeded  in  enrolling  a  number  of  ad- 
venturous spirits  who  were  seeking  service  on  the  strong 
side,  as  it  seemed  to  them,  or  were  ready  for  any  daring 
deed  that  promised  an  opportunity  for  plunder  and 
booty.  "Come  along  here,  Joel  Sowell,"  called  Jack 
Rains,  a  stalwart  man  with  no  trace  of  the  gentleman 
in  his  rugged  features,  his  eyes  having  in  them  a  cold 
glitter,  like  sharp  steel,  and  his  mouth  an  expression  we 


10   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

can  only  call  ,cruel.  "Come  along,  I  say,  and  enroll 
your  name;  we  want  sich  men  as  you — you've  got  a 
wife  and  a  nest  to  fight  for." 

"Not  I,  Jack  Rains.  A  man  that  has  been  robbed  by 
the  law  officers  of  the  crown  will  never  fight  for  a  king. 
In  this  scrimmage,  when  I  fight,  'twill  be  for  my  rights 
and  for  my  home  that  will  soon  be  taxed  away  from  me 
if  things  go  on  as  they  are  now  going." 

"That's  right,  Joel!"  exclaimed  his  young  wife,  a 
pretty,  rosy-cheeked,  brown-eyed  woman.  "If  you  ever 
join  Jack  Rains'  gang,  don't  come  home  any  more." 

"Never  fear  me,  lass ;  Jack  is  on  a  cold  trail.  I  may 
jine  General  Green,  but  never  a  gang  to  plunder  my 
neighbors." 

"I  have  marked  your  words,  Joel  Sowell,  and  your 
wife's  words,  too.  You  may  live  to  see  the  day  when  a 
kind  word  from  Jack  Rains  or  Colonel  Fanning  would 
save  your  rebellious  carcass  and  your  home  from  devour- 
ing flames.  Here,  Luke  Stallings,  redeem  your  name 
by  putting  it  down  on  this  muster  roll.  You  have  al- 
ready committed  treason  enough  to  hang  ye,  but  I  will 
take  you  for  a  bullet  stopper  and  mark  off  old  scores. 
Remember,  Herman  Husbands  must  leave  this  Province, 
and  all  like  him  do  likewise  or  answer  to  the  law;  you 
know  what  that  means." 

"Jack  Rains,  if  it  is  Sunday,  I  cannot  stand  such  talk 
as  that;  who  made  you  or  this  Colonel  Fanning  either 
expounders  of  our  laws  or  judges  as  to  our  treason? 
You  are  undertaking  a  dirty  job,  raising  men  to  rob, 
plunder  and  kill  your  neighbors.  Oh,  if  old  stuttering 
Corneal  Harnett  could  just  catch  the  pair  of  ye,  what 
a  royal  hangin'  there  would  be,  sure  as  flint  makes  fire." 

The  cold  eyes  of  Jack  Rains  flashed  as  he  answered: 
**Luke     Stallings,    if     'twant     Sunday     I'd    damn    ye. 


CONGREGATION  HEAR  DAVID  FANNING    11 

Nothin'  will  cure  you  but  a  bullit  or  about  fifteen  feet 
of  King  George's  hemp.  Your  name  is  down,  but  not 
on  my  muster  roll,  and  you'll  be  tended  to  later.  Say, 
Amen  Scurlock,  you  are  one  of  the  best  rifle  shots  on 
Brush  Creek;  down  with  your  name.  We  won't,  on 
account  of  your  age,  expect  hard  service,  but  I'll  give 
ye  somethin'  better  to  do  than  fightin'  yaller  jackets' 
nests." 

"Can't  do  it.  Jack,  thar's  nobody  at  home  but  the 
old  woman  and  our  darter,  Polly;  and  Men-repent 
Scurlock's  place  is  to  take  care  of  his  own  fireside. 
My  craps  is  in  the  grass,  my  taxes  is  outrageously  high, 
and  nobody  to  save  the  craps  and  pay  the  taxes  except 
me.  To  be  sure,  I  have  a  few  niggers,  but  whoever 
heard  tell  o'  they  workin'  unless  you  stay  with  them. 
No,  Jack  Rains,  fightin'  ain't  my  business,  but  I  am 
goin'  to  protect  my  own  agin'  all  comers,  and  my  rifle 
can  do  better  work  than  killin'  my  neighbors  because 
they  want  or  don't  want,  a  king." 

"I  see  how  it  is.  Amen,  Luke  Stallings  is  sweet  on 
your  darter  Polly,  and  he  is  the  most  audacious  rebel 
in  all  Chatham  County.  If  you  and  your  folks  mixes 
up  with  this  kind  of  cattle,  you  may  look  out  for  what 
is  sure  to  come." 

"And  what  is  that.  Jack  Rains?" 

"Why,  you  will  be  put  down  among  the  rebels  and 
will  have  to  take  just  what  they  get.  Colonel  Fanning 
and  his  loyal  men  will  know  well  enough  what  to  do 
when  they  come  down  Brush  Creek;  and,  depend  on  it, 
you  will  repent  harboring  or  encouraging  Luke  Stallings 
or  any  of  his  rebel  gang." 

Luke  had  stood  by  while  his  name  had  been  handled 
so  freely,  and  his  righteous  wrath  could  no  longer  be 
restrained.     There  were  two  mad  men,  for  Men-repent 


12   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

Scurlock  scouted  the  assumption  on  the  part  of  Jack 
Rains  to  dictate  who  should  be  a  guest  in  his  house. 

Scurlock  and  Luke  Stallings  moved  toward  Rains  at 
the  same  time,  while  he  stepped  back  toward  a  huge 
oak  tree  not  many  steps  away,  where  he  had  left  his 
gun.  Other  neighbors  also  gathered  around,  each  pro- 
ducing his  long-barrelled  squirrel  gun  or  rifle,  and  then 
stepped  to  the  side  of  the  man  he  intended  to  befriend. 
There  was  soon  an  array  of  arms  and  of  angry  men 
(about  equal  in  numbers  on  either  side)  that  trans- 
formed that  congregation  into  a  passion-moved  mob,  and 
only  a  beginning  was  necessary  to  precipitate  a  bloody 
battle. 

Luke  Stallings  was  the  first  to  speak,  and  his  deep 
voice  and  flashing  blue  eyes  told  all  who  saw  and  heard 
him  that  he  was  ready  for  a  desperate  struggle.  "Jack 
Rains,  God  knows  I  didn't  come  to  this  meetin'  house  to 
have  a  row  with  you  or  any  other  man.  This  is  no  place 
for  such  scenes,  and  you  are  cowardly  to  take  advan- 
tage of  this  place  and  the  presence  of  your  friend. 
Colonel  Fanning,  to  insult  me.  Remember,  Luke  Stal- 
lings never  wantonly  insults  any  man,  and  never  for- 
gets when  he  is  insulted.  I  shall  not  fight  here  unless 
you  force  it  on  me;  but,  if  you  do,  it  shall  be  a  fight 
to  a  finish." 

Amen  Scurlock  then  commanded  silence,  as  in  a 
clear  tone  of  voice  he  said;  "Only  a  few  more  words, 
and  then  we  will  be  governed  in  what  we  do  by  the 
necessities  of  the  case.  I  want  Jack  Rains  and  all  his 
friends  on  this  meetin*  house  ground  to  know  that  he, 
nor  no  other  man,  can  tell  Men-repent  Scurlock  who 
he  shall  or  shall  not  invite  to  his  own  house.  That 
house  is  mine  as  long  as  it  stands  with  a  roof  over  it, 
and  Luke  Stallings  or  any  other  friend,  be  he  in  favor 


CONGREGATION  HEAR   DAVID  FANNING     13 

of  the  colonies  or  the  king,  will  be  welcome  there  if  I 
choose.  If  that  don't  suit  Jack  Rains  and  Colonel  Fan- 
ning I'm  not  here  to  help  it,  and  I  want  to  know  what 
they  are  going  to  do  'bout  it." 

At  this  stage  of  the  quarrel  Father  Rowe,  who  had 
been  talking  with  some  of  his  flock  in  a  remote  part  of 
the  grove,  near  a  cool  spring,  attracted  by  angry  voices, 
quickened  his  ponderous  frame  into  a  slow  trot;  and,' 
although  the  path  up  the  hill  was  steep,  he  made  won- 
derful speed  for  one  weighing  over  two  hundred  solid 
pounds;  and  arrived  on  the  scene  just  as  Rains  was 
about  to  reply  to  both  Stallings  and  Scurlock,  and 
after  Stallings  had  primed  his  rifle. 

The  old  man's  presence  seemed  to  act  as  oil  upon  the 
troubled  waters.  Raising  his  voice  and  lifting  his 
hands  toward  Heaven,  he  cried:  "Peace,  peace,  peace; 
let  no  man,  however  unworthy,  be  slain  at  God's  altar. 
Colonel  Fanning,  I  did  not  give  ye  permission  to  stir 
up  the  angry  passions  of  my  flock  on  the  Lord's  Day; 
what  is  all  this  about  .^" 

"It  is  all  wrong.  Father  Rowe,"  exclaimed  the  wary 
Fanning.  "The  zeal  of  my  good  friend  Rains  outruns 
his  judgment,  and  has  led  him  to  commit  a  grave  fault. 
Of  course  he  knows  your  people  as  to  their  loyalty  or 
disloyalty  better  than  I  do;  but  he  has  chosen  the 
wrong  time  and  place  for  commendation  or  rebuke. 
Please  proceed  with  the  enrollment,  Mr.  Rains;  and 
you  should  ask  pardon  if  you  have  insulted  any  man 
on  this  ground. 

^^  "I'll  do  as  you  say,  Colonel  Fanning,"  replied  Rains, 
"but  you  don't  know  some  of  these  Brush  Creek  folks  as 
I  do.  I  didn't  mean  to  insult  nobody;  but  when  a  shoe 
pinches  a  fellow  he  must  squeal." 


14   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"That  will  do,  Rains;  on  with  the  enrollment/*  said 
Fanning  abruptly. 

"Well,  I  have  got  some  good  men  down.  Colonel  Fan- 
ning— some  that  ain't  afeard  of  the  devil  himself;  but 
I  want  that  tall,  strong  fellow  over  thar — "  pointing  to 
a  stalwart  specimen  of  manhood  who  had  hitherto  kept 
aloof,  but  alert  and  ready  at  any  moment  to  side  with 
the  Whigs. 

"AVho  is  he,  Rains  .f*'* 

"He,  that's  Charley  Sheering;  he  is  a  match  for  you. 
Colonel,  at  ridin',  or  the  use  of  sword  or  gun,  either; 
but  he  sympathizes  with  the  rebels,  unless  what  is 
narated  about  him  is  untrue.  Say !  here,  Charley  Sheer- 
ing, ye  are  wanted." 

"And  what  do  you  want  of  me.  Jack  Rains?"  said 
the  giant,  as  he  strode  up  with  his  long  rifle  at  a  trail. 

"What  should  I  want,  Charley  Sheering,  but  to  have 
you  take  your  stand  for  King  George  and  your  country 
— give  us  your  name  as  a  member  of  our  loyal  troop." 

The  face  of  Charley  Sheering,  as  he  looked  stead- 
fastly at  Rains  and  Fanning,  was  like  an  angry  cloud; 
his  eyes  kindled  into  a  blaze,  his  mouth  was  set  with 
such  an  expression  of  firmness  and  strength  that  it  awed 
even  his  bold  enemies,  and  they  quailed  before  his 
steady  gaze.  His  ruddy  complexion  deepened,  as  the 
blood  from  his  throbbing  heart  rushed  madly  through 
every  vein,  and  for  a  moment  he  seemed  to  be  weighing 
his  words  that  he  might  give  them  the  full  force  the 
occasion  demanded.  Fanning  watched  him  as  he  had 
done  no  other  man  at  Brush  Creek  Meeting  House,  for, 
in  him,  he  saw  an  enemy  to  kingly  power  destined  to 
give  him  no  little  trouble. 

Father  Rowe  drew  near  Sheering,  and  laying  his  arm 
over  his  shoulder,  said  gently:    "Easy,  easy  now.  Char- 


'/•fl^ 


CONGREGATION  HEAR   DAVID   FANNING      15 

ley;  you  know  I  love  ye^  wayward  as  ye  are;  think 
well  before  ye  speak,  Charley." 

"It's  all  thought  out,  Father  Rowe,"  answered 
Charley  in  a  rather  more  subdued  voice  than  his  pas- 
sion would  have  suggested.  "Jack  Rains  knows  me, 
and  he  knows  that  Charley  Sheering  is  not  for  sale. 
You  may  buy  a  farm,  you  may  buy  a  slave,  I  have 
heard  that  a  man  can  even  buy  a  wife,  but,  my  God! 
the  idea  of  buying  a  man  puts  all  my  blood  in  a  boil. 
There's  but  one  way.  Father  Davy,  to  end  all  this,  and 
to  keep  Brush  Creek  from  running  blood.  Dismiss  the 
congregation;  let  Jack  Rains  and  Colonel  Fanning 
leave  here  quick  and  take  their  gang  of  recruits  with 
them;  and  I  will  answer  that  our  men  will  go  peace- 
fully to  their  homes  and  will  not  molest  this  nest  of 
Tories,  unless  they  begin  some  of  their  devilish  work — 
then  'twill  be,  'an  eye  for  an  eye,  a  tooth  for  a  tooth.'  " 

"Come,  boys,"  continued  Sheering,  "let's  go  home; 
we  have  heard  quite  enough  of  'the  Gospel  according  to 
King  George,'  for  one  day." 

There  was  an  immediate  movement  in  the  crowd — 
Sheering,  Sowell,  Stallings,  and  Scurlock  gathered 
their  friends  together,  while  the  sympathizers  with 
Rowe,  Rains,  and  Fanning  were  not  long  in  mounting 
their  horses  and  scattering  toward  their  homes,  for  they 
saw  the  cloud,  even  though  no  bigger  than  a  man's 
hand. 

Soon  the  old  woods  around  Brush  Creek  Meeting 
House  were  left  in  the  keeping  of  the  birds,  as  they 
sung  their  vespers  from  the  boughs  toward  sunset; 
while  the  passions  aroused  on  that  fateful  day  caused 
many  a  bloody  wound^  and  brought  sorrow  to  many 
once  happy  homes. 


CHAPTER    III 

A  MUSTER   OF    FANNINg's    MEN   AT    JACK   RAINs'    CABIN 

As  Amen  Scurlock  jogged  along  through  the  woods, 
carrying  his  good  wife  Amanda  (familiarly  known  as 
Mandy)  on  a  pillion  behind  him,  his  daughter,  Polly 
Rutherford,  rode  beside  them,  mounted  on  a  dapple 
gray  filly  she  had  raised  in  the  yard  and  orchard,  and 
had  taught  to  come  when  she  called  her  by  name — 
*'Dapple" — to  thrust  her  head  into  the  bridle  and  ac- 
cept the  bit  eagerly,  while  she  responded  with  a  whinny 
to  Polly's  tender  touch  and  gentle  words.  When  the 
road  was  wide  enough,  Luke  Stallings  rode  on  the  other 
side  of  Polly,  being  well  mounted  on  a  chestnut  sorrel 
of  much  spirit  and  power.  When  the  bridle-way  grew 
more  narrow  it  would  frequently  happen  that  Polly 
would  let  Daddy  Scurlock  ride  ahead,  while  she  found 
room  enough  for  Dapple's  dainty  feet  beside  the  fiery 
sorrel  and  his  handsome  rider. 

Behind  them  rode  Charley  Sheering,  a  young  man  of 
rare  qualities  as  a  Whig  leader,  and  one  of  the  bravest 
and  most  dangerous  men  the  Tories  had  to  deal  with. 
He  lived  several  miles  beyond  the  home  of  Scurlock, 
had  married  the  niece  of  an  old  friend  of  the  Scur- 
locks,  and  had  yielded  to  their  pressing  invitation  to 
spend  the  night  with  them,  for  he  had  an  object  in  so 
doing  which  he  had  not  yet  mentioned  to  either  Scur- 
lock or   Stallings.      Sheering  knew   that  the   cabin  of 

16 


FANNING'S  MEN  AT  JACK  RAINS'  CABIN     17 

Jack  Rains  was  not  more  than  three  miles  from  S cur- 
lock's  home,  and  he  had  to  pass  that  cabin  in  going  to 
his  own  home.  He  believed  that  the  coming  into  their 
neighborhood  of  David  Fanning  boded  no  good  to  the 
Whigs  and  their  cause;  and  had  fully  resolved  not 
long  to  lose  sight  of  this  notorious  Tory  while  he  re- 
mained in  the  cabin  of  John  Rains. 

On  reaching  the  comfortable  home  of  Scurlock,  the 
men  looked  after  the  stabling  of  their  horses  and  then 
took  their  seats  on  the  porch  to  talk,  while  Mrs.  Scur- 
lock  and  Polly  were  busy  in  getting  out  some  rare  china 
and  delf  ware,  and  arranging  the  supper  table,  while  a 
timely  word  hastening  old  Anachy,  the  darkie  cook, 
with  her  corn-pone  and  wheaten  hoe-cakes,  came  from 
Mandy  Scurlock;  and  the  smell  of  broiling  venison 
told  in  advance  of  the  coming  of  a  bountiful  spread. 

Honest  Men-repent  Scurlock,  or  "Amen,"  as  Father 
Rowe  had  dubbed  him,  was  a  quiet,  inoffensive  citizen, 
beloved  by  his  neighbors  regardless  of  their  party  affil- 
iations, and  a  man  who  delighted  in  being  hospitable. 
Had  Fanning  himself  sought  his  hospitality  it  would 
have  been  cheerfully  accorded  to  him;  and  while  his 
prosperous  condition  made  him  conservative,  and  it  was 
his  desire  that  the  present  order  of  government  con- 
tinue, rather  than  bloodshed  and  desolation  in  the  effort 
to  secure  liberty;  yet,  in  the  deep  recesses  of  his  heart, 
he  prayed  that  the  Whigs  might  succeed;  and  he  never 
failed  in  his  quiet  way  to  do  them  a  good  turn.  "Aunt 
Mandy,"  as  she  was  called  all  over  the  neighborhood, 
was  a  more  outspoken  rebel,  and  failed  not  to  rejoice  at 
every  success  the  Whigs  scored,  and  could  with  diffi- 
culty suppress  her  scorn  for  a  Tory.  Charles  Sheering 
was  her  model  of  a  man  that  lived  up  to  his  principles, 
and  she  often  told  Luke  Stallings,  with  a  knowing  shake 


18   THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

of  her  head^  that  "if  Charley  Sheering  was  hunting  a 
wife  along  Brush  Creek  he  would  soon  find  one^  and  the 
gals  would  like  Luke  a  heap  better  the  more  he  was 
like  Charley." 

Luke  had  grown  stronger  in  his  faith  in  the  final 
outcome  of  the  Whig  cause,  and  was  as  brave  and  bold 
for  his  experience,,  as  Aunt  Mandy's  model.  Sheering, 
in  the  months  that  passed  after  that  fateful  Sunday, 
found  Luke  his  ready  helper  as  they  tracked  Fanning 
and  Rains  in  their  bloody  campaign  against  the  Whigs 
in  Chatham,  Orange,  and  the  counties  bordering  on  the 
Scotch  settlement;  and  Fanning  soon  learned  both  to 
hate  and  to  dread  them. 

Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock  was  an  only  child,  and  a 
young  woman  that,  having  few  advantages  in  obtaining 
an  education,  had  succeeded  in  a  remarkable  degree  in 
educating  herself.  She  read  well,  and  her  active  mind 
devoured  all  the  good  books  within  reach  of  her;  and 
she  had  managed  from  time  to  time  to  add  to  her  store, 
until  the  mantel  shelf  and  a  little  pine  table  in  her  room 
showed  an  array  of  books  that  were  her  companions  and 
her  delight.  She  wrote  a  beautiful  hand,  and  took 
pleasure  in  jotting  down  her  thoughts  and  the  daily 
happenings  in  her  quiet  country  life.  The  old  spinet 
her  grandmother  Rutherford  had  brought  from  Scot- 
land was  kept  in  repair  by  the  skill  of  Daddy  Scur- 
lock, and  her  mother,  whose  fingers  had  never  lost  their 
skill  in  music,  had  early  taught  her  the  first  principles 
of  harmony;  and  the  wonderful  talent  she  possessed 
enabled  her  to  become  quite  proficient  in  playing,  while 
a  rich  and  well-modulated  voice  was  also  her  special 
gift  and  charm.  She  was  mistress  of  the  spinning 
wheel,  the  flax  wheel,  the  winding  blades;  and  her 
dainty  fingers  could  make  the  knitting-needles  click  an 


FANNING'S  MEN  AT  JACK  RAINS'  CABIN     19 

accompaniment  to  her  rich  voice_,  as  she  sang  some 
merry  lay  and  wrought  a  stocking.  She  had  just  passed 
eighteen^  and  with  a  well-rounded  figure,  dark  violet 
eyes,  auburn  hair — with  a  glint  of  sunlight  all  through 
it — she  was  a  daughter  to  love  and  cherish,  and  a  dan- 
gerous associate  for  any  young  man  unless  he  was  pre- 
pared to  capitulate  promptly  to  the  charms  of  a  rare 
woman.  Polly  Rutherford  had  been  named  for  her 
Grandmother  Rutherford,  and  had  inherited  many  of 
that  rare  old  Scotch-woman's  attractions  and  character- 
istics. She  was  a  rebel  against  kingly  power,  and  was 
outspoken  in  her  condemnation  of  every  form  of  oppres- 
sion the  Colonists  were  compelled  to  endure.  It  was 
her  brave  espousal  of  the  Continental  cause  that  had 
decided  Luke  Stallings  in  his  determination  to  win  her 
for  a  wife;  and  he  had  about  reached  the  point  of  ask- 
ing her  a  point-blank  question;  therefore  he  was  spend- 
ing the  night  at  the  Scurlocks. 

As  the  gentlemen  sat  on  the  porch  awaiting  supper, 
their  conversation  naturally  turned  toward  Parson 
Rowe's  sermon,  the  advent  of  Fanning,  and  the  exciting 
scenes  of  the  enrollment. 

"I  like  not  to-day's  work,"  said  Amen  Scurlock. 
"There  will  be  bloodshed  and  trouble,  and  Dave  Fan- 
ning and  Jack  Rains  will  be  at  the  bottom  of  it.  I 
love  my  country  and  my  people,  but  it  do  look  like  they 
are  engaged  in  a  hopeless  struggle  ag'in'  the  King;  and 
I  hate  to  see  valuable  lives  lost  and  property  destroyed, 
when — I  am  afeard  it  will  end  in  hangings  and  confis- 
cation. I  am  getting  old,  and  the  older  we  get  the 
more  we  desire  peace." 

"Daddy  Scurlock,"  said  Sheering,  "you  ain't  well 
and  strong  like  you  used  to  was,  or  you  wouldn't  talk 
that  way.     I  know  where  your  heart  is,  but  you  have 


20   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

good  reasons  for  holding  aloof,  and  I  don't  think  any 
the  less  of  you  for  it.  You  have  only  one  child,  and 
she's  a  gal,  and  so  pretty  she  needs  watchin'  and  pro- 
tectin'  in  these  war  times.  Your  health's  not  good,  and 
you  are  right  to  stay  at  home;  but  with  Luke  and  me 
'tis  different.  Every  bone  in  my  body,  and  every  drop 
of  my  blood,  is  ag'in'  King  George  and  all  his  minions; 
and  the  devil  never  discovered  to  the  British  a  meaner 
or  more  dastardly  helper  than  Dave  Fanning.  There 
ain't  acres  enough  in  Carolina  to  hold  both  of  us,  and 
I  mean  to  hunt  him  down  like  I  would  a  wild  turkey; 
and  he  has  got  to  go  under  ground  or  quit  the  grit.  I 
am  going  over  to  Jack  Rains'  cabin  to-night  to  find  out 
what  those  devils  are  about." 

"I  am  with  you,"  said  Luke,  knocking  the  ashes  from 
his  cob  pipe;  "Fannin'  is  after  no  good;  and  Charley, 
we  two  must  not  lose  sight  of  him  while  he  is  on  Brush 
Creek.  As  for  Jack  Rains,  I  always  knew  he  was  a 
bad  one;  and  if  ever  we  get  into  a  fight  one  of  us  will 
never  get  back  home." 

"Hadn't  you  fellows  better  rest  quietly  here  to-night, 
and  take  daylight  to  go  by  Jack  Rains'  cabin  ^ — you 
have  to  pass  there  anyway,"  said  "Amen." 

"Oh,  we  will  be  back  here  to-night.  Amen — unless 
something  happens,"  said  Sheering.  "Luke  and  me  will 
just  ride  up  there  and  reconnoiter  a  bit,  and  our  mo- 
tions will  be  in  accordance  with  what  we  see  and  hear." 

"Well,  come  along  in  to  supper,"  said  Amen;  "I  hear 
Polly  a-callin'  us.  But  really,  I  do  hope,  my  friends, 
you  won't  run  into  any  danger.  Mandy  and  Polly  are 
such  Rebels  I'm  afeard  the  Tories  will  burn  me  out,  and 
now  my  two  best  friends  and  neighbors  are  likely  to 
get  into  trouble — this  world  is  full  of  trouble." 

"jDon't  take  council  of  your  fears.  Daddy  Scurlock; 


FANNING*S  MEN  AT  JACK  RAIN'S!  CABIN    21 

we  may  see  trouble,  my  friend,  but  we  shall  give  Fan- 
ning and  Rains  trouble  to  burn,  or  drive  them  out  of 
the  country/'  said  Sheering,  as  they  went  into  the  sup- 
per room. 

"How  do  you  like  Colonel  Fanning,  Aunt  Mandy?" 
asked  Charley  Sheering  after  they  were  seated. 

"About  like  I  do  a  rattlesnake,  Charley;  I  never  saw 
any  good  for  a  snake  except  to  kill  him,  Charley;  he 
is  here  on  no  good  errand,  and  I  warn  you  now  to  watch 
him.  Old  Father  Rowe  is  getting  in  his  dotage,  and  is 
such  a  rank  Tory  I  am  losing  all  patience  with  him. 
Jack  Rains  is  just  the  tool  Fanning  has  been  looking 
for,  and  his  coming  here  means  dividing  our  people, 
rapine  and  plunder." 

"Luke  is  going  with  me  to  look  after  the  gentlemen 
to-night.  Aunt  ]\Iandy,  and  they  won't  do  much  devil- 
ment that  we  do  not  catch  up  with  while  he's  on  Brush 
Creek.  We  shall  get  back  here  some  time  between  now 
and  daybreak,  so  you  will  excuse  us  for  eating  an  extra 
hearty  meal_,  and  leavin'  as  soon  as  the  moon  goes 
down.'* 

"So  you  are  going,  too,  are  you,  Luke?"  said  Polly 
in  an  undertone,  while  Sheering  was  talking. 

"Yes,  Polly,  pleasure  would  keep  me  here,  but  duty 
says  'go,'  and  I  am  going." 

"That  is  right,  Luke;  I  will  sit  up  until  you  both 
return,  for  I  am  anxious  to  hear  what  is  going  on  at 
Jack  Rains'  cabin;  but  you  have  two  hours  yet  before 
the  moon  goes  down,  and  after  supper  we  can  sing  a 
few  sacred  songs  as  at  least  a  worshipful  closing  of  a 
Sabbath  soiled  by  the  strife  of  tongues." 

A  bright  smile  played  around  the  corners  of  Luke's 
mouth  as  the  thought  passed  through  his  mind;     "I  won- 


22   THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

der  if  Polly  thinks  all  the  two  hours  is  to  be  spent  in 
singing  and  talking  Fanning." 

The  supper  room  was  also  the  sitting-room  when  the 
Scurlocks  had  company,  and  after  the  table  had  been 
cleared,  and  the  china  carefully  washed  and  placed  in 
the  corner  cupboard.  Daddy  Scurlock,  Aunt  Mandy 
and  Charley  Sheering  took  seats  on  the  woodbine-cov- 
ered porch,  while  Polly  and  Luke  remained  in  the  sit- 
ting-room. 

The  spinet  was  opened,  and  their  voices  were  soon 
blending  in  an  old  melody  that  was  a  great  favorite  in 
camp  meetings  and  at  the  country  meeting  houses  of 
that  day.  The  words,  written  by  Charles  Wesley,  had 
found  a  spirited  tune  in  "Lenox,"  and  as  the  rich,  full 
tones  of  Polly's  voice  mingled  with  the  uncultivated  but 
naturally  sweet  tenor  of  Luke's,  their  audience  on  the 
porch,  and  the  darkies  from  kitchen  and  quarter,  gath- 
ered about  the  door  and  listened  with  many  manifesta- 
tions of  pleasure,  old  Anachy  venturing,  as  she  stood 
near  the  front  porch  in  the  waning  moonlight,  to  join 
in,  with  her  light  treble,  "blow  ye  de  trumpet  blow." 

"Well  done!"  exclaimed  Charley  Sheering,  as  their 
voices  ceased.  "That  beats  Brush  Creek  meeting  house 
out  of  sight;    sing  us  some  more." 

Luther's  hyron,  "A  Safe  Stronghold  Our  God  Is 
Still,"  was  a  great  favorite  with  Polly,  and  Luke's 
voice  harmonized  as  well  in  this  great  battle  hymn  of 
the  church  as  in  the  trumpet  song;  and  thus  song  after 
song  from  heart  and  lips  filled  the  first  hour  before  the 
moon  should  go  do^vn ;  and  Polly  then  closed  the  spinet, 
for  which  Luke  gave  her  a  grateful  look,  and  said: 
"Thank  you,  Polly;  I  was  just  about  to  say  this  last 
hour  to-night  belongs  to  me," 


FANNING'S  MEN  AT  JACK  RAINS'  CABIN    23 


*t 


*Aiid   that  be   so,  Luke,  what   are  you  going  to  do 
with  it?"    was  Polly's  quizzical  question. 

"I  am  going  to  try  and  make  myself  happy  for  life, 
Polly.  Such  things  have  been  done,  and  all  in  less  than 
an  hour." 

"Surely  you  are  expecting  to  accomplish  too  much  in 
one  short  hour,  Luke." 

"Not  if  you  answer  my  catechism  all  right,  Polly; 
and  I  am  quite  sure  you  know  what  I  would  ask." 

Polly  had  heard  the  old  story  from  other  lips,  young 
as  she  was;  and,  while  shrewd  enough  to  guess  the 
nature  of  Luke's  catechism,  her  innate  love  of  mischief 
prompted  her  to  decline  to  assist  him;  so  she  said  inno- 
cently: "How  should  I  know  the  nature  of  your  cate- 
chism, Luke.''     Is  it  anything  about  man's  chief  end.''" 

"I  reckon  it  is,  Polly;  hang  it  all!  if  man  wasn't 
made  on  purpose  to  take  care  of  some  girl,  I  don't  know 
what  he  was  made  for.  Now  can't  you  help  me  just  a 
little  bit,  Polly.'' — it  nearly  chokes  me  to  get  it  out,  but 
it  must  come." 

"Poor  Luke,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?  If 
mammy  was  here  she  would  bang  you  in  the  back.  She 
says  that  is  the  best  thing  to  do  when  you  get  choked." 

"Polly,  you  are  just  making  fun  of  me,  and  I  am  in 
dead  earnest.  I  love  you,  Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock, 
and  I  stayed  here  to-night  just  to  tell  you  so.  I  am 
going  to  join  the  Continental  army  just  as  soon  as 
Fanning's  gang  leaves  Brush  Creek;  and  I  wanted  you 
to  know,  Polly,  that  my  only  hope  for  earthly  happi- 
ness is  in  the  possession  of  your  love;  and  should  my 
life  be  sacrificed  for  my  country,  the  only  bitter  pang 
would  be  parting  from  you.  I  don't  ask  you  to  marry 
me  now,  for  these  are  no  times  for  young  men  who  are 
called  to  defend  their  country  to  marry.    But  I  do  want 


24   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

to  go  away  feeling  that  one  heart  loves  me  and  would 
welcome  me  if  I  should  come  back  in  safety,  or  would 
sorrow  should  I  fill  a  patriot's  grave.  I  am  in  your 
hands,  Polly;    do  with  me  as  your  heart  wills." 

Polly  sat  gazing  at  a  deer-skin  rug  on  the  floor, 
nervously  twirling  the  silver  chain  that  held  a  golden 
locket  suspended  from  her  neck.  She  had  been  thus 
honored  before  by  more  than  one  young  man,  but  never 
before  had  she  felt  other  than  indifferent  to  the 
proffered  honor.  The  silence  was  painful,  and  Luke 
was  growing  restless.  Polly  shyly  glanced  now  and 
then,  from  beneath  her  long  brown  lashes,  at  the  hand- 
some young  man  so  bluntly,  yet  tenderly,  pleading  his 
cause.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed  and  there  was  a  quiver 
of  emotion  that  she  could  ill  conceal;  those  violet  eyes 
shyly  refused  to  meet  Luke's  loving  gaze,  and  her 
tongue  forebore,  as  yet,  to  utter  a  word. 

Luke  waited  until  it  seemed  to  him  the  short  hour 
that  was  to  make  him  so  happy  had  well-nigh  passed. 
At  last  he  could  stand  the  strain  no  longer;  he  caught 
her  beautiful  hands  in  his  strong  grasp,  and,  caressing 
them  gently,  said:  "I  was  a  fool,  Polly,  ever  to  think 
that  such  a  queen  of  a  girl  as  you  are  would  ever  mate 
with  a  rough  woodsman  like  me.  If  I  have  grieved  you, 
Polly,  pardon  me;  I  must  go — 'tis  almost  time  to  get 
our  horses." 

Luke  felt  the  slender  fingers  held  so  firmly  in  his 
grasp  tremble,  and,  in  Polly's  eyes,  as  she  timidly 
raised  them,  there  were  tears  just  ready  to  fall.  Then, 
with  a  sob  in  her  voice,  she  said:  "Luke,  you  won't 
help  me  a  little  bit;  you  are  so  blind,  so  stupid  not  to 
understand,  not  to  see." 

Polly's  tear-filled  eyes  soon  found  a  resting  place  on 
Luke's   shoulder;    and,   folded   close   to   his   heart,   she 


FANNING'S  MEN  AT  JACK  RAINS'  CABIN     25 

plighted  him  her  bright  young  life  when  he  should  re- 
turn from  the  war,  and  the  liberties  of  her  country 
should  be  won. 

The  ride  to  Jack  Rains*  cabin  was  quickly  made,  and 
Sheering  and  Stallings  exchanged  but  few  words  on  the 
road,  while  their  approach  was  made  with  great  cau- 
tion. Dismounting,  and  tying  their  horses  in  a  thick 
clump  of  pines  at  a  safe  distance  from  the  cabin,  they 
cautiously  crept  through  a  little  patch  of  com  near  a 
path  that  led  from  the  spring  up  to  the  cabin,  their 
keen  eyes  on  the  watch,  for  they  fully  expected  that 
Fanning  would  have  sentries  posted  that  the  Tory  con- 
clave might  be  held  with  more  safety  and  privacy. 
Their  plans  had  not  been  perfected,  and  so  strong  was 
the  Tory  sentiment  in  that  part  of  Brush  Creek  settle- 
ment that  Fanning  and  Rains  exhibited  no  caution  on 
this  occasion;  so  Sheering  and  Luke  found  no  difficulty 
in  approaching  the  cabin,  and  secreting  themselves  be- 
hind an  ash-hopper  in  the  corner  of  the  huge  stick  and 
mud  chimney. 

Through  the  holes  made  by  the  dropping  out  of  the 
mud  in  many  places,  they  had  a  good  view  of  the  in- 
terior of  the  large  room  in  which  Fanning,  Rains,  and 
some  half  a  dozen  followers  had  assembled,  and  could 
hear  every  word  uttered.  It  seems  that  Rains  had 
made  a  list  of  the  land  owners  and  tenants  in  the  Brush 
Creek  settlement,  and,  when  Sheering  and  Luke  first 
reached  their  hiding  place.  Fanning  had  just  begun 
going  over  the  list,  and  his  questions  were  very  minute, 
his  comments  ominous  as  to  those  who  were  tainted  with 
rebellion. 

"I  knowed  it,"  whispered  Sheering;  "we  will  get  on 
to  their  schemes  to-night,  and  a  precious  lot  of  devil- 


26   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

ment  they  are  hatching.  Listen  now^  Luke;  and  no 
talkin'  any  further  until  we  get  away." 

"How  about  Amen  Scurlock^  Rains?"  questioned 
Fanning. 

"Well^  he's  a  yea,  nay;  no  harm  in  him;  good  neigh- 
bor, well  to  do,  and,  but  for  his  women,  would  help  the 
King.  Old  ^landy  Scurlock  is  the  devil's  own  rebel; 
and  the  gal  is  wuss,  if  anything." 

"She  is  pretty,  is  she  not.  Rains?'* 

"Just  as  pretty  as  a  picture.  Colonel;  thar  ain't  sich 
another  high-stepper  on  Brush  Creek  as  Polly  Scur- 
lock." 

"Ah-ha ! — we  will  watch  them.  Rains,  and  the  old 
man  must  be  made  to  fear  the  King  through  appre- 
hension for  the  safety  of  his  girl;  do  you  understand. 
Rains?" 

"Guess  I  do.  Colonel,  and  thar's  six  fellows  here 
to-night  that  wouldn't  mind  getting  away  with  Polly 
Scurlock;  then  the  old  man  would  shell  out  his  shinin' 
pounds  mighty  free  to  get  her  back  ag'in." 

"That  is  a  good  idea;  we  must  make  Scurlock  a 
friend  to  the  King,  if  it  sacrifices  the  girl;  do  you 
understand,   Rains  ?" 

Luke,  in  his  hiding  place  behind  the  ash-hopper, 
heard,  too;  and  he  ground  his  teeth  together  so  hard 
Sheering  nudged  him,  whispering:  "Stop  that  grittin', 
Luke;    hush!    I  tell  ye." 

"The  devil  couldn't  stand  that,  Charley;  let  me  kill 
the  scoundrel  right  now,"  whispered  Luke. 

"No,  no,  Luke,  we  have  got  more  to  larn  from  him 
to-night;  jest  listen  awhile — he'll  get  to  you  and  me 
arter  awhile." 

Fanning  proceeded  with  the  list.     "How  about  Joel 


FANNING'S  MEN  AT  JACK  RAINS'  CABIN    27 

Sowell,  Jack?     He  was  one  of  those  fellows  that  re- 
fused to  enlist." 

"The  very  same.  Colonel;  we  can't  depend  on  Joel — 
he  and  that  young  wife  of  his'n  are  arrant  rebels." 

"Let  Joel  look  well  to  himself;  I  think  we  can  give 
him  a  trip  to  Wilmington  to  see  Major  Craig;  and  who 
will  then  take  care  of  his  pretty  wife,  Rains  .^" 

Rains  gave  a  low,  guttural  laugh  of  approval,  and 
said  with  a  devilish  grin:  "That's  the  talk.  Colonel; 
these  frisky  heifers  that  think  theirselves  too  nice  to 
speak  to  Jack  Rains  must  be  made  to  feel  our  power, 
and  Joel  Sowell's  wife  is  one  of  'em.  Thar  are  some 
more  like  her  along  Brush  Creek,  and  we  will  make  it 
lively  for  'em  when  the  music  begins.  Colonel." 

"Go  on  with  the  roll.  Jack  Rains;  you  are  as  spite- 
ful as  the  devil;    what  of  Corneal  Tyson?" 

"He's  on  both  sides.  Colonel;  but  there's  little  harm 
in  him.  He  feeds  well,  never  turns  a  Tory  away,  and 
by  jings!  he's  got  the  best  pack  er  hounds  and  finest 
horses  in  Chatham  or  any  other  county." 

"We  will  put  him  down  as  neutral.  Rains,  and  will 
not  disturb  him  unless  he  becomes  decidedly  rebellious. 
We  can  forage  on  him  whenever  we  come  into  this 
section.  The  worst  man  to  deal  with  comes  next.  Rains 
- — that  giant  and  devil  combined,  Charles  Sheering.  He 
is  a  hell  of  a  fellow,  and  the  Province  could  get  on  well 
without  him." 

"You  said  somethin'  then,  Colonel;  Sheering  ought 
to  be  killed  or  run  out  of  the  country;  there's  no  friend 
of  King  George  that  is  safe  when  he  is  around." 

"We  will  attend  to  him  promptly.  Rains;  make  an 
example  of  him,  and  at  the  same  time  rid  the  country 
of  a  pest.     'Tis  my  opinion  that  young  Luke  Stallings 


28   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

is  but  little  better  than  Sheering;  and  it  might  be  well 
either  for  him  to  go  to  Wilmington,  or " 

The  sentence  was  not  finished,  for  just  then  Sheering 
could  restrain  Luke  no  longer;  he  thrust  the  barrel  of 
his  rifle  into  a  crack  in  the  chimney  and  fired.  The 
rifle  shot  startled  Fanning,  Rains,  and  every  follower 
in  the  room;  a  rush  was  made  for  the  door,  and,  rifle 
in  hand,  the  whole  company  made  a  rigid  search  of  the 
little  inclosure  in  which  the  cabin  stood. 

Meanwhile,  Sheering  and  Luke  had  made  a  rapid  re- 
treat through  the  corn  patch  and  to  the  clump  of  pines, 
mounted  their  horses,  and  were  riding  rapidly  away, 
reaching  Amen  Scurlock's  house  about  an  hour  after 
midnight. 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE    SHOOTING   OF   CHARLEY  SHEERING 

**That  was  a  narrow  graze/'  said  Fanning;  "the  ball 
entered  the  log  just  by  my  head.  Who  was  the  scoun- 
drel, do  you  suppose_,  Rains?" 

"It  warn't  anybody  but  Sheering  or  that  young  devil, 
Luke  Stallings ;  and  they  was  together,  whichever  of 
'em  shot.  Colonel.  I  tell  ye,  nothin'  but  killin'  will  do 
them  any  good;  and  'tis  evident  they  think  the  same 
about  you  and  me." 

"Let  everything  get  quiet  now,  Rains;  out  with  the 
torch-light ;  place  a  guard ;  arrange  for  reliefs ;  and 
the  balance  of  us  must  go  to  sleep.  We  shall  soon  get 
to  work  in  earnest,  and  Brush  Creek  rebels  had  better 
take  to  the  woods." 

While  this  colloquy  was  going  on  at  Rains'  cabin, 
Charley  Sheering  and  Luke,  having  reached  Scurlock's, 
found  the  inmates  all  wide  awake  and  waiting  for  them. 

"You  are  back  sooner  than  I  expected,  boys.  Come 
in;  Mandy  and  Polly  have  a  little  somethin'  to  eat 
ready  for  ye,"  said  Amen,  as  he  met  his  guests  at  the 
gate.     "Dark  ride  ye've  had." 

"And  dark  deeds  are  a-brewing.  Amen  Scurlock,  or 
my  name's  not  Charley  Sheering." 

"I  was  afeard  of  it,  that  I  was,  Charley;  come  in 
and  tell  us  all  ye  heard  and  seen." 

"That  would  take  all  night.  Amen;   and  we  must  get 

29 


so   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   REV   BUCK 

a  wink  of  sleep  and  be  off  afore  day.     Howsomever,  we 
will  tell  ye  this  much.  Amen;    and  we'd  better  do  our 
talkin'  beyond  hearin'  of  the  women.     You,  Luke,  Joel 
So  well  and  me  are  all  spotted,  and  have  got  to  watch 
and  look  out  for  ourselves.     We  overheard  their  plots, 
and  know  now  exactly  what  Fanning  is  here  for.     He 
has  been  furnished  by  that  scoundrel  Rains  with  a  list 
of  every  man  on  Brush  Creek,  and  a  record  of  exactly 
how  he^  stands   toward  the  King.     They  have  got  you 
down  as    neither  fish,  flesh,  fowl,  nor  good  red-herring,* 
as   the   old   saying   goes.      A  little  bit   friendly   to   the 
King  but  over-slaughed  by  your  old  woman  and  Polly. 
They  mean  to  make  you  show  your  hand,  and — I  hate 
to  say  it,  Amen— has  design  ag'in'  Polly,  so   as  to  get 
you  in  their  power." 

"That's  so,  Daddy  Scurlock,"  said  Luke  in  a  whis- 
per; "I  heard  them  say  it  in  so  many  words;  and,  for 
God's  sake,  don't  let  Polly  go  out  of  the  house  without 
you  are  in  sight.  That  wretch.  Jack  Rains,  said  to- 
night he  had  half  a  dozen  fellows  ready,  any  one  of 
them  to  run  away  with  Polly  Scurlock." 

"This  is  sad  news,  my  friends,"  said  Scurlock,  with 
a  break  in  his  voice.  "Sad  news  indeed;  what  am  I  to 
do  with  the  poor  lass  when  she  is  not  safe  under  her 
own  father's  roof?" 

"Ain't  there  some  place  you  could  send  Polly,  where 
she  would  be  out  of  reach  of  this  thieving  lot  that  are 
bent  on  harrying  our  people  into  submission  to  the 
King?"  questioned  Sheering. 

"It  is  a  long  journey,  but  once  I  can  get  Polly  safely 
under  the  roof  of  my  old  friend,  Parson  David  Cald- 
well, over  in  Guilford,  not  far  from  Buffalo  Meeting 
House,  she  would  be  out  of  reach  of  Tanning's  gang," 
replied  Scurlock. 


SHOOTING   OF   CHARLEY  SHEERING      31 

"It  must  be  done/'  said  Luke  emphatically;  "I  want 
to  join  Greene's  army,  and  will  take  that  direction.  I 
had  not  thought  of  going  until  after  Fanning  leaves 
Brush  Creek,  but  any  time  you  wish  to  make  the  jour- 
ney, Daddy  Scurlock,  I  will  go  with  you." 

"It  is  my  notion,  Luke,  that  you  can  serve  the  coun- 
try quite  as  well  in  watching  and  fighting  Fanning  as 
m  going  to  the  army.  Of  course  you  will  go  with 
friend  Scurlock  to  Guilford  whenever  he  is  ready,  and 
get  sweet  little  Polly  out  of  harm's  way,  but  the  Tories 
are  going  to  give  us  plenty  of  fighting  right  at  home, 
and  we  must  get  ready  for  it.  Fanning  as  good  as  said 
to-night  that  Joel  Sowell  would  be  sent  to  Wilmington, 
and  you  and  me  were  to  be  got  rid  of;  and  I  know  what 
that  means." 

"I  am  willing  to  fight  the  enemy  anywhere,"  said 
Luke;  "and  if  it  is  best  for  me  to  come  back  with 
Daddy  Scurlock  and  watch  this  vile  gang  that  Jack 
Rains  is  getting  together,  I  will  come,  for  he  has  gath- 
ered the  scum  and  scurf  of  Chatham  County.  About 
the  toughest  of  the  lot  is  that  fellow,  Steve  Walker; 
and  Dick  Edwards  is  not  many  shades  better." 

"Come  in  now,"  said  Amen,  "and,  for  the  Lord's  sake, 
don  t  tell  the  women  folks  what  you  have  told  me.  It 
is  useless  to  worry  them  to-night;  and  I  will  make  my 
plans,  and  Luke  and  I  can  take  Polly  Rutherford  over 
to  Parson  Caldwell's  this  week." 

"We  thought  you  were  all  going  to  spend  the  shank 
of  the  night  at  the  stable,"  said  Aunt  Mandy.  "Surely 
you  must  have  been  powerfully  pleased  with  one  an- 
other, and  forgot  there  were  clever  women  about." 

Polly  gave  Luke  a  quizzical  smile  and  added'  "I 
don't  think  they  deserve  a  hot  supper,  mammy.     What 


32   THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

do  you  think  of  a  young  man  who  prefers  talking  to 
men  when  a  fairly  good-looking  girl  is  about?" 

"He  deserves  to  live  and  die  a  grumpy  old  bachelor, 
Polly  Rutherford;  that's  what  he  does;  but  the  girls 
all  forgive  them  and  are  willing  to  take  them  into  favor 
again  on  probation,  as  the  Methodists  do.  I  believe  in 
'final  perseverance'  in  other  things  besides  religion; 
how  about  you,  Luke?" 

Luke,  being  thus  appealed  to,  blushed  all  over  his 
face  and  behind  his  ears,  but  bravely  answered: 
**  'Final  perseverance'  is  my  doctrine,  Aunt  Mandy,  as 
you  will  find  out  before  very  long.  It  was  not  my 
preference  to  stand  out  there  in  the  dark  talking  to 
Charley  and  Daddy  Scurlock;  but  we  had  some  things 
to  say  that  the  trees  mustn't  whisper  to  the  enemy,  and 
you  women  folk  will  hear  of  in  due  time.  So  pardon 
us  this  time,  and  please  don't  refuse  us  that  second 
supper,  for  I  am  as  hungry  as  a  wolf." 

"So  am  I,"  said  Charley.  "And  I  will  say  this  much 
for  Luke — he  was  the  most  impatientest  fellow  to  come 
into  the  house  I  ever  seen.  Kept  watchin'  the  porch 
where  Polly  was  a-standin',  and  come  in;  I  thought  he 
would.  What  have  you  been  doin'  to  Luke,  Polly? — • 
he  certainly  acts  queer  to-night." 

"Nothing  in  the  world,  Mr.  Sheering;  I  would  not 
harm  a  hair  on  the  young  man's  head,"  replied  Polly 
innocently. 

"Oh,  no;  but  mightn't  you  have  said  something  to 
him  that  would  raise  the  hair  on  his  head?  He's  mighty 
bigoty  somehow,  and,  do  what  I  could  to-night,  I 
couldn't  keep  him  from  blazing  away  with  his  rifle  at 
that  crowd  up  to  Jack  Rains'  cabin;  he  like  to  have 
played  the  devil — axin'  your  pardon,  ladies,  for  the 
freedom  of  the  expression." 


SHOOTING   OF   CHARLEY  SHEERING      3$ 

"Oh!  Oh!"  exclaimed  Aunt  Mandy  and  Polly  in  a 
breath. 

"Now,  Sheering,  you  have  let  the  big  black  cat  outer 
the  bag,"  said  Amen  Scurlock;  "and  we  had  just  as  well 
tell  Mandy  and  Polly  all  about  it." 

"Well,  they've  got  to  know  it.  Amen,  and  the  sooner 
all  of  us  makes  our  plans  the  safer  and  the  better  for 
us/* 

So  while  Sheering  and  Luke  partook  of  the  bountiful 
second  supper,  Sheering  related  to  his  auditors  all  he 
had  heard  as  to  Fanning's  plans,  and  both  he  and  Luke 
urged  the  necessity  for  Polly's  speedy  departure  for  the 
home  of  Dr.  Caldwell.  It  was  after  two  o'clock  before 
guests  and  household  retired  to  rest;  and  this  left  but 
little  of  the  night,  as  Sheering  and  Luke  had  told  their 
host  that  they  must  leave  for  Sheering's  home  before 
dawn. 

Luke  managed  to  secure  a  few  moments  before  leav- 
ing in  which  to  exchange  confidences  with  Polly  Ruth- 
erford; and  the  parting  kiss  was  given  in  the  shady  re- 
cess of  the  vine-covered  porch. 

"Goodby,  my  precious  girl;  it  is  only  for  a  little 
while — on  next  Thursday  I  will  be  here  to  guard  you 
and  Daddy  Scurlock  to  the  home  of  Parson  Caldwell. 
You  will  see  something  of  the  ravages  of  the  war  in 
Guilford,  for  the  British  army  has  left  its  mark  there, 
too.  But,  thank  God,  you  will  be  out  of  the  range  of 
Fanning  and  Rains;"  and  Luke  gave  Polly  an  extra 
kiss  as  he  bade  her  adieu. 

The  piece  of  road  Sheering  and  Luke  Stallings  were 
to  travel  as  they  passed  the  cabin  of  Jack  Rains  was 
soft  and  sandy,  but  they  also  took  the  precaution  to 
muffle  their  horses'  feet  with  hay,  so  as  to  enable  them 
to  get  by  with  as  little  noise  as  possible,  for  they  were 


34   THE  MASTER  OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

quite  sure  they  would  find  sentinels  posted;  and  if  they 
were  discovered  they  might  expect  more  than  one  shot 
in  return  for  Luke's  shot  of  the  night  before;  that  they 
were  suspected,  they  did  not  doubt. 

Fortunately,  they  reached  the  cabin  before  dawn,  and 
the  darkness  favored  them.  They  brought  their  horses 
down  to  a  slow  walk  as  they  drew  near  to  a  large  wal- 
nut tree  in  front  of  the  cabin,  and  Luke's  keen  eyes 
saw  a  dark  object  crouching  close  to  the  trunk  of  the 
tree,  and  the  flash  of  a  spark  from  a  pipe  revealed  to 
both  of  them  a  sentry  not  thirty  steps  from  them. 

"There  he  is,"  said  Luke;  "they  are  watching  for 
us.'* 

Another  flash  of  the  pipe  revealed  the  sentry  in  a 
standing  position  and  listening,  as  if  he  heard  some 
sound  in  the  road. 

"Put  spurs  to  'Sorrel  Top,'  Luke,  and  follow  me," 
was  Sheering's  whispered  order;  and  his  horse  leaped 
forward  and  was  soon  dashing  up  the  white  sand  behind 
him,  enveloping  both  of  them  in  a  thick  cloud  of  dust. 

"Sorrel  Top"  followed  Sheering's  horse,  and  his 
movements  were  greatly  quickened  by  a  sudden  flash 
and  the  crack  of  a  rifle,  followed  by  another  and  yet 
another;  but  the  balls  all  flew  wide  of  their  mark,  and 
although  some  of  Fanning's  gang  followed  the  retreat- 
ing sound  of  horses  as  far  as  the  forks  of  the  road, 
more  than  two  miles  away,  the  early  dawn  brought 
them  no  view  of  the  enemy,  and  they  returned  to  Rains' 
cabin  only  to  report  that  Sheering  and  Luke  Stallings 
had  passed  and  got  away. 

"The  devil,  you  say;  is  that  the  best  you  can  do, 
Steve  Walker? — you've  got  to  mend  your  holt,"  said 
Rains,  in  a  tone  of  anger. 


SHOOTING    OF    CHARLEY    SHEERING    35 

"How  far  does  Charley  Sheering  live  from  here^ 
Rains?"    questioned  Fanning. 

"Only  about  seven  miles,  Colonel." 

"I  v^ill  attend  to  that  gentleman  myself,  Rains;  and 
you  may  go  along  to  see  it  well  done.  Sheering  is  too 
daring  a  leader  of  men  to  live;  I  think  Walker  will 
do  good  work  when  he  begins." 

"All  right.  Colonel,  111  go  with  ye  any  night  ye 
name,  for  I  shall  feel  more  comfortable  when  that  job's 
done." 

The  following  night  was  deemed  a  suitable  one  for 
Fanning's  purpose,  and,  saddling  their  horses,  he  and 
Rains  rode  away  in  the  direction  of  Charley  Sheering's 
home  a  little  after  ten  o'clock.  As  they  rode  along, 
Fanning  gave  Rains  a  clear  idea  of  his  plans. 

"You  see.  Rains,  we  must  proceed  with  caution. 
Every  man  has  his  friends,  and  some  of  the  Whigs  have 
good  friends  among  the  Tories.  Where  that's  the  case, 
if  it  doesn't  cost  our  cause  too  much,  we  will  let  them 
be,  or  we  will  just  take  such  fellows  prisoners  and  send 
'em  to  Wilmington.  We  must  make  a  bloody  example 
of  some,  and  I've  determined  that  Charley  Sheering 
shall  be  'scapegoat'  for  a  beginning.  Kill  a  few  prom- 
inent Whigs  and  we  will  strike  terror  into  the  heart  of 
the  rebellious,  and  cause  the  neutrals  to  lay  low  and 
do  nothing  to  help  the  other  side.  I  am  determined 
every  man  shall  show  his  hand  and  play  fair.  No  dodg- 
ing about  the  bush;  and,  as  soon  as  I  get  men  enough 
armed  and  equipped,  I  shall  do  a  few  things  that  will 
startle  the  Province,  for  this  is  no  general  muster  busi- 
ness, this  is  war." 

"It's  killin'  and  foragin',  at  any  rate,"  said  blunt 
Jack  Rains,  and  he  came  nearer  the  truth  than  did  Fan- 
ning. 


36   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

Reaching  Charles  Sheering's  home^  Fanning  left  his 
horse  with  Rains^  and  silently  approached  the  house. 
There  was  no  light  about  the  place,  and  every  indica- 
tion that  the  inmates  of  the  house  were  asleep. 

With  a  deep  voice,  once  heard  never  forgotten,  he 
demanded  entrance  and  asked  for  Charley  Sheering. 

"He  is  not  at  home,"  replied  a  female  voice;  "what 
do  you  want  with  him  at  this  hour  of  the  night.'*" 

"I  owe  him  a  score  and  wish  to  settle  it;  open  the 
door  or  I  shall  come  in  without  your  bidding,  madam." 

The  door  was  speedily  opened,  and  the  stalwart  form 
of  Fanning  crossed  the  threshold  and  stood  in  the  pres- 
ence of  a  pale,  delicate-looking  woman  of  fragile  form, 
almost  perfect  features,  and  dauntless  spirit. 

"What  did  you  say  you  wanted  with  my  husband.^" 
she  again  questioned. 

"That  is  a  matter  between  us  alone,  madam;  where 
is  he?" 

"I  know  not;  and  did  I  know  you  could  never  find 
out  from  me  unless  I  knew  your  business,  sir.  This  is 
unhandsome  in  you,  a  stranger,  to  disturb  me  at  this 
unseemly  hour." 

"The  King's  business  requireth  haste,  madam;  and  I 
must  see  your  husband." 

"Find  him,  then,  for  I  tell  you  I  know  not  where  he 
is. 

"I  will  not  be  slow  to  do  that,  madam,"  replied  Fan- 
ning, as  he  began  poking  the  barrel  of  his  rifle  among 
the  heaps  of  bed-clothes  and  behind  the  garments  hung 
on  pegs  against  the  wall.  "If  he  is  in  the  house  I  will 
find  him;  if  in  the  out-houses,  I  shall  also  find  him;  so 
you  had  as  well  tell.  You  are  a  beautiful  woman,  al- 
though a  little  pale  and  worried  now;  you  would  make 
a  winsome  widow/' 


SHOOTING  OF  CHARLEY  SHEERING      37 

*'Out  of  this  house^  sir;  I  tell  you  my  husband  is  not 
here;    go  elsewhere  and  find  him." 

"You  are  devilish  spunky  at  any  rate;  I  will  take 
your  word  that  he  is  not  secreted  in  the  house,  and  will 
now  seek  him  in  some  of  his  hiding  holes.  When  I  find 
him  you  will  be  sure  to  know  it;  I  will  fire  a  salute. 
Good-night,  madam;"  and,  making  a  bow.  Fanning 
passed  out. 

The  cow-shed  and  stable  were  next  searched,  with  no 
result,  and  Fanning  began  to  fear  that  his  wary  enemy 
had  eluded  him,  when  he  bethought  him  of  a  small  crib 
which  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  barnyard.  Creeping  up, 
he  peeped  through  a  wide  space  between  the  logs,  and 
discovered  some  object  lying  on  the  floor,  but  in  the 
darkness  he  found  it  difficult  to  determine  whether  it 
was  a  pile  of  sacks  or  a  human  being.  His  eye  becom- 
ing accustomed  to  the  dim  starlight,  he  believed  at  last 
he  had  found  the  object  of  search;  and,  taking  delib- 
erate aim,  fired. 

There  was  no  movement  of  the  object  nor  a  groan; 
so  Fanning  waited  not  for  further  information,  but,  in 
the  firm  belief  that  he  had  slain  an  enemy  of  the  King, 
mounted  his  horse  and,  accompanied  by  Jack  Rains, 
rode  rapidly  away. 

The  agonized  wife  on  hearing  the  rifle  shot,  fearless 
of  danger,  left  her  little  children,  who  were  still  sleep- 
ing and  oblivious  of  her  trouble,  and  rushed  out  into 
the  little  inclosure  around  the  cabin  just  in  time  to  see 
two  men  ride  away. 

At  this  moment  Luke  Stallings,  who  had  also  been 
in  hiding  some  distance  from  the  cabin,  came  up  to  her, 
saying:  "Mrs.  Sheering,  who  fired  that  shot.'*  ^^^lere 
is  Charley?" 

*'I  have  just  come  out  to  find  him,  Luke.     A  strange 


38   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

man  has  been  here  searching  for  him,  and  I  fear  he 
found  him  and  has  done  him  harm.  Oh,  what  is  a  poor 
woman  to  do  in  these  awful  times?" 

"That's  Fanning,  Mrs.  Sheering;  he's  shot  Charley, 
and  we  must  find  him." 

Just  then  they  heard  a  low  voice  calling:  "Hannah, 
Luke,  come  and  help  me;    I'm  badly  wounded." 

"Why,  he's  in  the  crib,  Luke,"  said  Hannah  Sheer- 
ing; and  they  were  not  long  in  getting  to  where  he  lay 
with  an  ugly  wound  through  his  neck,  the  ball  having 
cut  its  way  out  between  his  windpipe  and  neck-bone. 

"Poor  fellow!"  exclaimed  Luke;  "I'll  get  even  with 
them  on  this  night's  job.  Can  you  raise  up,  Charley? — 
wait,  let  me  staunch  that  wound  with  my  handkerchief. 
Now,  Mrs.  Sheering,  you  get  on  one  side  of  him  and  I 
the  other,  and  we'll  get  him  into  the  house." 

"No,"  said  Sheering,  "in  the  fix  I  am  I  mustn't  stay 
here,  for  I  can't  fight  and  the  gang  may  come  back. 
Go  with  me  over  to  Corneal  Tyson's,  Luke;  I  will  then 
get  my  neck  spliced  by  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom,  and 
be  in  some  sorter  shape  to  fight  them  devils.  If  Fan- 
ning thinks  he's  done  me  up  for  good  he's  a  long  way 
off  from  the  truth." 

"Stop  crying,  Mrs.  Sheering,"  said  Luke;  the  ball 
has  never  been  moulded  that  will  kill  Charley.  I'll 
take  him  over  to  Tyson's,  leave  him  there,  and  then 
come  back  here  to  stay  until  tomorrow  night.  If  you 
want  to  go  over  to  your  Uncle  Tyson's  I'll  come  back 
for  you  and  the  children  and  see  you  safely  there,  so 
cheer  up  a  bit." 

Mrs.  Sheering  was  a  plucky  woman,  and,  seeing  how 
bright  and  resolved  her  husband  was,  began  at  once  to 
prepare  him  for  the  journey  of  eight  miles,  determining 
that  she  would  follow  him  under  Luke's  escort  the  next  day. 


CHAPTER    V 

FANNING    CAPTURES    CHATHAM    COURT 

The  news  of  the  murderous  assault  upon  Charles 
Sheering  spread  through  the  County  of  Chatham,  and 
aroused  a  feeling  of  more  determined  resistance  on  the 
part  of  the  Whigs,  while  it  emboldened  the  Tories  to 
undertake  many  lawless  deeds,  causing  serious  destruc- 
tion of  property  and  the  loss  of  many  valuable  lives. 

Luke  Stallings  went  with  his  friend  Sheering  on  the 
night  he  was  shot,  over  to  the  home  of  Cornelius  Tyson, 
reaching  there  before  daylight;  and  did  not  leave  until 
he  had  assisted  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom  in  cleansing 
and  stitching  up  the  ugly  wound  that  had  well-nigh  cost 
the  life  of  a  true  patriot.  Returning  to  Sheering's 
home,  he  found  Hannah  Sheering  all  ready  to  depart. 
Even  the  pack  horse  was  laden  with  such  articles  of 
necessity  as  she  should  need  for  a  prolonged  stay,  and 
little  baby  Sarah  and  sturdy  master  Cornelius  were 
dressed  and  ready  for  the  journey. 

"Bless  my  life,  Hannah  Sheering,  did  you  accomplish 
all  this  work  by  yourself.^ — you  should  have  waited  till 
I  came,"  was  Luke's  salutation. 

"Hannah  Sheering  never  waits,  Luke;"  was  her 
cheerful  reply.     "How  did  you  leave  Charley?" 

"Oh,  don't  worry  about  Charley,  Hannah;  he's  as 
bright  as  a  new  guinea,  and  as  fierce  as  a  lizard. 
There's   lots  of  fight  in  Charley  yet;    but  surely   you 

39 


40   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

must  be  broken  down — go  and  rest  a  while  before  you 
undertake  that  eight  miles/* 

"I  do  not  need  to,  Luke;  women  are  made  of  leather- 
wood  and  spring-steel.  Come  in  and  get  a  bite  to  eat 
and  we  will  start,  for  I  am  anxious  to  reach  Uncle 
Tyson's  before  dark." 

"You  are  a  game  one,  Hannah;  if  all  the  women 
were  like  you  I  should  venture  on  marrying  even  in 
war-time.  But  Charley  Sheering  took  the  pick  of  Brush 
Creek." 

"Suppose  I  were  to  tell  Polly  Rutherford  you  said 
that,  Luke.^" 

"Suppose  you  was ;  I  would  tell  her,  as  I  often  have, 
that  the  best  women  I  knew  were  married,  and  her  only 
chance  to  be  your  equal  is  to  marry,  and  to  marry  me." 

"You  saucy  fellow!  If  you  get  that  girl,  you  will 
get  the  pick  of  Brush  Creek  and  no  mistake;  and  if 
you  do  I  believe  you  would  be  some  account,  Luke. 
Come  along  now,  and  eat,  for  if  you  begin  to  talk  about 
Polly  Rutherford  you  will  talk  until  sundown." 

Luke  took  his  seat  at  a  pine  table  under  the  shade 
of  a  large  oak,  his  seat  being  a  round  block  resting  on 
three  legs;  and  Hannah  took  another  like  it,  holding 
baby  Sarah  in  her  lap.  They  partook  of  a  meal  con- 
sisting of  a  huge  wooden  bowl  of  mush;  a  dish  of 
broiled  middling;  fresh  milk,  with  clean,  bright  gourds 
for  glasses;  and  hot  Indian  pone  with  hoe-cakes  of  rye 
flour. 

Luke  told  Hannah  of  the  visit  Polly  Rutherford  in- 
tended making  to  the  Caldwells'  for  it  seems  that 
neither  he  nor  her  husband  had  told  Hannah  before  of 
their  adventurous  night  at  Rains'  cabin,  and  of  all  they 
had  learned  there. 

"You   see,  Hannah,"   said  Luke,  "this  Fanning  has 


FANNING   CAPTURES    CHATHAM   COURT      41 

gathered  about  him  the  worst  men  in  Chatham  County ; 
he  says  he  holds  a  commission  from  King  George,  and 
means  to  make  every  man  show  his  hand,  and  every 
rebel  woman  shut  her  mouth.  'Tain't  safe  for  Polly 
Rutherford  to  stay  within  reach  of  that  gang;  and  I 
am  going  over  to  Daddy  Scurlock's,  and,  Thursday 
morning  before  day,  he,  Polly  Rutherford  and  me 
will  start  for  Guilford.  It  will  take  until  Saturday 
night  to  make  the  trip,  if  we  have  no  interruptions,  and 
that  gang  don't  get  wind  of  it  and  try  to  stop  us.  Fan- 
ning don't  want  the  girl  to  get  out  of  reach,  for  he 
intends,  if  necessary,  to  sacrifice  her  liberty  that  he 
may    force    Daddy    Scurlock    to    support    the    King's 

cause." 

"The  dastardly  wretch!"  said  Hannah  indignantly; 
*'he  wars  on  women  and  children  as  well  as  men;  he 
may  kill  us,  but  women  are  never  conquered,  Luke." 

"I  believe  you,  Hannah;  and  Polly  Rutherford  is 
another  one  of  the  'leather-wood  and  steel-spring  kind 
of  women  who  would  suffer  death  before  dishonor." 

"I  am  sorry  for  poor  Daddy  Scurlock,  Luke;  they 
know  he's  got  money  and  that  he  wants  to  save  his 
property  for  his  girl;  that  he  has  no  enmity  to  the 
King;    and  they  are  going  to  bleed  him  to  exhaustion,  I 

fear." 

"Do  you  know,  I've  changed  my  mind  about  going  to 
Greene's  army,  Hannah;  I  was  going  on  to  join  him 
from  Guilford,  but  the  coming  of  this  devil.  Fanning, 
has  changed  all  my  plans.  I  am  going  to  join  Captain 
Bob  Roper  and  watch  and  fight  this  scoundrel  until  he 
is  driven  out  of  the  country,  or  I  am  under  my  native 
sod,  and  Charley  is  going  to  do  the  same.  By  being 
around  here  I  can  look  after  and  help  Daddy  Scurlock, 
for  he  is   going  to  have  a  hard  time,  and  your  worst 


42   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

predictions  about  him  will  prove  true_,  or  all  signs  fail." 
Luke  and  Hannah  continued  their  talk  as  they  jour- 
neyed by  the  way.  Master  Cornelius  riding  behind  his 
mother  on  her  husband's  best  horse,  while  Luke's  fiery 
sorrel  made  no  complaint  at  carrying  baby  Sarah  on 
the  saddle  in  front  of  Luke  and  clasped  in  his  strong 
arms,  but  stepped  proudly  along  as  if  aware  that  he 
bore  a  treasure. 

On  their  arrival  at  the  home  of  Hannah's  uncle,  Cor- 
nelius Tyson  (usually  called  Corneal),  they  found  the 
old  gentleman  sitting  out  on  a  wide  porch  shaded  by 
two  large  walnut  trees,  his  huge  limbs  encased  in  a 
pair  of  homespun  linen  trousers,  his  feet  covered  by  a 
pair  of  deerskin  slippers,  his  body  only  protected  by  a 
large,  breezy-looking  white  linen  shirt;  and  he  wore 
neither  coat  nor  waistcoat.  Beside  him,  on  a  broad, 
oak  split  chair,  a  duplicate  of  that  occupied  by  Tyson, 
sat  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom,  each  engaged  in  blowing 
blue  curls  of  smoke  from  cob  pipes  of  generous  dimen- 
sions, and  talking  in  a  slow  and  deliberate  way  about 
the  unhappy  condition  of  the  Province. 

Dr.  Tony,  or  "Old  Sides,"  as  his  many  friends  called 
him,  was  what  Aunt  Mandy  Scurlock  had  denominated 
"A  borned  doctor."  He  had  been  able  to  secure  but 
few  advantages  in  his  early  days,  but  a  varied  experi- 
ence in  a  practice  of  thirty  years  put  him  far  ahead  of 
many  of  the  "book-larned,"  as  more  modern  doctors 
were  called,  and  he  had  not  his  equal  in  fevers,  break- 
ing up  heavy  colds,  setting  broken  limbs,  and  assisting 
the  coming  race  into  the  world.  In  surgery  he  was 
considered  a  "past  master."  Having  in  his  youth 
wrought  laboriously  at  a  blacksmith  forge,  he  devel- 
oped great  mechanical  skill,  and  had  made  with  his 
own  hands  the  set  of  saws  and  sharp  knives  with  which 


FANNING   CAPTURES   CHATHAM   COURT      43 

he  performed  many  an  operation  that  would  make  a 
twentieth  century  surgeon  tremble  to  contemplate. 
"Old  Sides"  seemed  to  have  no  nerves  and  but  little  of 
the  sympathetic  in  his  tall,  ungainly  anatomy,  but  deep 
down  below  a  rugged  exterior  there  beat  a  warm  heart, 
and  he  was  frequently  discovered  in  trying  to  hide 
some  kind  and  generous  action. 

The  contrast  between  Corneal  Tyson,  who  pulled  the 
beam  at  two  hundred  and  forty  pounds,  and  was  nearly 
as  broad  as  he  was  tall,  and  "Old  Sides,"  who  stood 
six  feet  two — a  loosely  jointed  frame  of  heavy  bone  and 
muscle — was  as  great  as  was  their  contrast  in  charac- 
teristics. Tyson  was  a  money  maker — prudent,  world- 
wise,  and  generally  unsympathetic.  His  convictions 
were  usually  so  deep  down  in  his  nature  as  to  elude  the 
search  of  any  ordinary  observer,  and  sentiment  was 
ordinarily  subservient  to  his  monetary  interests.  He 
had  one  strong  trait  in  his  character,  and  that  was — 
love  for  his  kindred.  He  had  but  few,  and  this  niece, 
Hannah  Sheering,  was  looked  upon  as  the  future  heiress 
of  this  odd  old  bachelor  uncle.  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom 
was  as  blunt  as  the  end  of  his  big  nose,  and,  as  he  was 
no  fighting  character,  but  mended  broken  heads  when 
others  fought,  he  had  a  way  of  saying  what  he  pleased. 
His  voice  was  sharp  and  thin,  every  word  seeming  to 
have  a  point  to  it,  and  both  friend  and  enemy  dreaded 
his  tongue.  Corneal  Tyson  and  Amen  Scurlock  were 
his  nearest  friends.  Tyson,  like  himself,  was  a  bache- 
lor, and  the  doctor  spent  many  of  his  idle  hours  at 
"Walnut  Knoll,"  as  Tyson  called  his  bachelor  home. 

As  they  sat  smoking,  Corneal  began  the  conversation 
by  asking  the  doctor  as  to  Charley's  chances  for  pulling 
through. 

"That  fellow  shot  to  kill,  Tony,  and  I  am  fearsome 


44   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

about  sich  wounds.  Do  you  think  Charley  will  re- 
kiver?" 

"It's  a  close  shave^  Corneal;  the  ball  passed  right 
by  the  jugler^  and  if  it  had  gone  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
closter  'twould  'a'  cut  it  spang  in  two  and  he  would 
have  bled  to  death  in  no  time.  As  'tis,  Charley  has 
good  chances,  and  I  look  for  him  to  be  all  right  in  a 
little  while." 

"I'm  glad  o'  that,  Tony;  Charley  is  a  good  fellow, 
and,  marryin'  my  niece,  Hannah  Tyson,  ye  see  I  take 
more  than  neighborly  intrust  in  the  case.  Do  all  you 
can  for  him,  Tony;  but  I  don't  know  as  'twill  do 
Charley  much  good;  he  is  in  this  scrap  until  the  close, 
and  I  am  af eared  will  get  shot  again;  but  cure  him 
up  this  time,  anyhow.  If  he  is  a  little  short  o'  money, 
that  will  make  no  difference;  you  shall  be  paid.  These 
is  flickety  times,  Tony,  and  gold  guineas  is  goin'  to  be 
scarce  before  we  see  'em  plenty;  tharfore,  make  your 
bill  reasonable  on  Charley." 

"Corneal,  if  you  was  a-dyin'  I  believe  you'd  bargain 
with  old  Timothy  Shaw  at  the  crossroads  about  your 
coffin  and  grave  afore  you  went.  Now,  if  Charley 
hadn't  a  fip  in  his  pocket,  he'd  find  Tony  Sidebottom 
right  by  him;  and  he  should  have  jest  as  clost  atten- 
tion as  if  he  was  Gineral  Washington.  So  don't  con- 
sarn  yourself  about  Charley  Sheering,  nor  go  to  hagglin' 
over  the  price  of  a  leetle  cuttin',  stitchin',  and  splicin'. 
Charley  is  a  patriot,  Corneal,  and  I  wish  we  had  a 
hundred  thousand  sich.  King  George's  hosts  would 
have  to  quit  the  country,  and  Fanning's  gang  would  go 
with  them." 

"Don't  get  flustered,  Tony;  we  are  too  old  friends  to 
fall  out.  I  am  able  to  pay  anything  you  charge,  and 
mean  to  do  it.     Charley  do  love  his  country^  and  so  do 


FANNING   CAPTURES   CHATHAM  COURT      45 

I,  in  different  ways.  I  made  my  money  under  King 
George,  Tony,  and  could  get  along  to  the  end  of  my 
days  without  all  this  upstir.  I  allow  there  are  griev- 
ances I  would  like  to  see  rectified,  and  taxes  is  as  hard 
on  me  as  any  man  in  Brush  Creek  settlement/* 

"In  other  words.  Corneal,  you  love  your  property, 
not  your  country;  while  Charley  is  willin*  to  sacrifice 
something  and  get  shot  full  of  holes  for  the  sake  of 
liberty,  and  to  have  a  government  of  our  own  makin*.  I 
call  that  a  darned  big  difference  in  the  way  you  fel- 
lows love  your  country." 

"Patriotism  is  as  folks  look  at  it,  Tony;  and  T  am 
not  prepared  at  my  time  of  life  to  sacrifice  all  I  have 
made  for  the  sake  of  even  a  good  idee.  If  any  of  the 
Whigs  got  in  a  tight  place,  and  a  few  guineas  would 
help  'em,  I  don't  say  as  I  wouldn't  let  'em  have  'em; 
but  my  big  carcass  wa'n't  made  to  stop  bullets  for  an 
idee,  Tony.  If  Charley  choose  to  fill  his-self  full  of 
lead  in  this  Revolutionary  cause,  and  leave  a  hand- 
some young  widow,  I'll  see  to  it  that  she  and  the  chil- 
dren have  a  good  and  permanent  home  at  Walnut 
Knoll;  that's  my  patriotism,  Tony." 

"Well,  you  know  our  old  copybooks  used  to  have 
phrases  set  for  us  to  write  after.  Corneal.  One  phrase 
was:  'Many  men  of  many  minds,'  and  you  are  not  by 
yourself  in  this  Province.  I'm  not  flingin'  blame  on  ye 
— you  have  a  right  to  choose  for  yourself;  but  Tony 
Sidebottom  ain't  of  your  way  of  thinkin'." 

"And  Tony  Sidebottom  ain't  got  a  smart  bit  o'  money 
to  lose  betwix  Whigs  and  Tories,  neither,"  said  Corneal, 
his  round  red  face  growing  redder  as  he  glanced  at 
the  quizzical  expression  with  which  the  doctor  regarded 
him. 


46   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

*'So  you  didn't  know  I  was  rich,  Corneal?  That 
shows  how  little  folks  know  of  their  neighbors." 

The  idea  of  Tony  Sidebottom,  the  friend  of  every- 
body, the  servant  of  everybody,  whether  rich  or  poor, 
being  rich  seemed  such  a  ridiculous  idea  to  matter-of- 
fact  Corneal  Tyson  that  he  broke  forth  into  a  hearty 
laugh.  His  fit  of  ill  humor  was  gone  in  a  moment,  and 
slapping  the  doctor  on  the  back  he  said: 

"Yes,  Tony,  you  are  rich,  and  a  devilish  sight  richer 
than  old  Corneal  Tyson,  and  I  shall  never  love  you 
any  the  less  for  being  a  AATiig,  although  I  love  the  King. 
You  are  rich  in  friends,  and  rich  even  in  the  good  will 
of  your  enemies.  Some  men  make  money,  Tony;  others 
enjoy,  not  the  possession,  but  all  that  the  money  of  their 
friends  will  buy.  Yes,  yes,  you  are  rich  as  long  as  old 
Corneal  Tyson  lives." 

While  the  two  friends  chatted,  the  sun  had  gone  down 
behind  the  western  hills  and  daylight  was  fast  fading. 
It  was  just  as  Corneal  had  pronounced  his  never-fail- 
ing friendship  for  Dr.  Tony  that  Hannah  Sheering, 
Luke,  and  the  two  children  rode  up. 

"Bless  my  life !  here's  Hannah  and  the  chickens ; 
Luke,  too,"  and  Uncle  Corneal  raised  his  ponderous 
frame  and  slowly  shuffled  his  way  down  the  steps  and 
out  to  the  horse  blocks. 

Meanwhile,  Luke  had  assisted  Hannah  to  dismount, 
had  lifted  Master  Cornelius  down,  and  then  proceeded 
to  toss  Baby  Sarah  into  the  outstretched  arms  of 
Uncle  Corneal. 

"Who  is  this,  Sarah?"  said  the  old  man;  and  he 
roared  with  hearty  laughter  as  the  little  darling  patted 
his  broad  red  cheeks  and  answered; 

"My  Unker  Neil." 


FANNING   CAPTURES   CHATHAM   COURT      47 

"And  who  is  this,  boy?"  the  old  man  questioned^  as 
he  took  his  namesake's  little  hand  in  his. 

"Dat  is  my  ittle  Neil." 

"Bless  your  sweet  tongue,  you  shall  never  leave  your 
'Unker  Neil.'  Do  you  hear  that,  Hannah?"  said  the 
old  man  as  he  gave  his  niece  a  hearty  kiss.  "Walnut 
Knoll  is  your  home  henceforward;  you  will  be  safer 
here,  and  Charley  must  agree  to  closing  up  his  home 
and  allowing  you  to  make  a  home  for  me  in  my  last 
days,  child.     His  home  can  be  here,  too." 

"It  is  as  Charley  says,  dear  Uncle;  and  I  do  not 
think  he  will  be  unreasonable  about  it,"  replied  Hannah. 

So  our  readers  must  not  be  surprised  at  finding 
Charley  Sheering's  little  family  indefinitely  domiciled 
at  Walnut  Knoll. 

Not  a  great  while  had  elapsed  after  the  arrival  of 
Hannah  Sheering  at  Walnut  Knoll  before  Dr.  Tony 
Sidebottom,  in  his  semi-weekly  visitations  to  Charley 
Sheering,  brought  startling  news  of  a  rare  exploit  on 
the  part  of  Fanning  and  his  gang  of  marauders  that 
produced  a  great  sensation  in  Chatham  County. 

Reaching  Walnut  Knoll  one  morning,  he  had  just 
tied  "Old  Blaze"  at  the  rack,  and  was  lifting  his 
saddlebags  from  the  saddle,  as  Corneal  Tyson  hailed 
him. 

"Come  in  out'n  the  sun,  'Old  Sides,'  or  you'll  melt. 
WTiat's  the  news?" 

"Daggoned  bad  news.  Corneal;  that  gang  Jack  Rains 
and  Fanning  got  together  at  old  Parson  Rowe's  meetin' 
house  t'other  Sunday  are  playin'  the  devil." 

"What  have  they  done  now,  Tony?" 

"Oh,  they  hain't  done  a  thing  but  captured  Chatham 
Court  bodily,  lawyers  and  all,  and  are  on  the  way  to 
Wilmington  with  the  whole  lot." 


:48   THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

**You  don't  say!'* 

*'Yes,  I  do  say,  Corneal;  it's  a  livin'  fact,  and  the 
people  of  this  Province  have  got  to  roust  that  gang, 
or  no  honest  man  or  woman  will  be  safe  in  their  own 
bed.  Here's  poor  Scurlock  has  got  to  send  Polly 
Rutherford  away  from  home  to  keep  that  lecherous 
wolf  and  his  followers  from  carrjdn'  her  off  bodily,  that 
they  may  twist  money  out'n  the  old  man.  'Tis  a  dag- 
goned  shame.  Corneal,  that's  what  it  is." 

" 'Twix'  you  and  me,  Tony,  'tis  a  shame;  and  I 
don't  hold  with  no  sich  doings — if  Fanning  is  a  reg'lar 
officer  of  King  George,  he  ought  to  abide  by  the  law  of 
the  land,  and  when  I  see  him  I'll  tell  him  so." 

"Yes,  Corneal,  tell  the  devil  to  stop  raisin'  hell  on 
earth — he'll  mind  you  just  as  quick." 

"Have  Luke  Stallings  and  Scurlock  got  back  from 
Guilford,  Tony.^*"  questioned  Tyson,  anxious  to  avoid 
further  discussion  of  Fanning. 

"Yes,  and  a  time  of  it  they  had  gettin'  there;  but  I 
won't  undertake  to  tell  that.  Luke  will  tell  ye  all 
about  it  when  he  gets  a  chance  to  come  and  see  Charley, 
I  guess." 

"^Vhere's  Luke  now,  Tony.^" 

"Where  he  ought  to  be.  Corneal — with  Captain  Bob 
Roper,  watchin'  the  thieves;  'tis  a  pity  they  can't  get 
men  enough  together  in  Chatham  County  to  capture 
and  hang  the  whole  gang." 

"Go  slow,  Tony.  Thar  is  complaints  both  sides.  The 
Tories  say  that  Phil  Alston,  Colonel  Wade  of  Anson, 
Major  Nail,  and  Captain  Robeson  treat  them  just  as 
bad  as  they  treat  the  AMiigs;  and  while  hangin'  is  too 
good  for  some  of  'em,  I  grant  you,  you  have  got  more 
good  men  to  hang  than  they  have." 

"I   thank   ye    for    that    word.    Corneal — 'More    good 


FANNING   CAPTURES   CHATHAM   COURT      49 

men  to  hang  than  they  have/  I  should  say  so.  Phil 
Alston  is  worth  a  whole  cartload  of  sich  fellows  as 
Jack  Rains  and  Fanning,  and  Major  Nail  and  Captain 
Robeson,  accordin'  to  my  knowings,  are  gentlemen  that 
can't  treat  sich  cattle  as  these  Chatham  Comity  Tories 
as  either  equals  or  as  deservin'  of  much  along  the  line 
of  mercy.  As  to  Colonel  Wade,  he  is  too  far  away 
for  me  to  know  much  about  him,  but  I  hain't  a  doubt 
he  treats  every  Tory  he  catches  a  leetle  better  than  he 
deserves." 

"Well,  Tony,  we  won't  discuss  that,  for  we  don't 
altogether  agree  about  it,  you  know;  although,  mind 
ye,  I'm  not  upholdin'  this  plunderin',  murderin'  busi- 
ness neither  side.  Tell  me  somethin'  about  the  capture 
of  Chatham  Court." 

"There  ain't  much  to  tell.  Corneal.  Fanning,  Jack 
Rains,  Steve  Walker,  the  Ed\v"ardses,  and  about  thirty 
odd  more  made  a  dash  into  Pittsboro  and  just  bodily 
took  the  whole  court — lawyers,  justices,  and  all;  and 
they  are  now  carrying  them  down  to  Wilmington  as 
prisoners  of  King  George.  Tom  Scurlock,  nigh  kin  to 
Amen,  is  among  the  prisoners;  and  Amen  is  powerfully 
stirred  up  about  it." 

"I  tell  ye,  Tony,  this  Fanning  is  playin'  the  devil 
"with  the  King's  cause,  and  is  makin'  Whigs  out'n  good 
Loyalists  every  day." 

"You  haven't  heard  the  last  of  Fanning,  Corneal; 
and  he  is  goin'  to  give  you  sympathizers  a  reg'lar 
tourniquet  twist  afore  long;  then  maybe  you'll  find  out 
the  price  of  bein'  a  friend  to  King  George." 

"Don't  let's  talk  about  it  any  more  now,  Tony;  come 
in  and  get  a  bite  of  dinner  and  see  Charley,  Hannah, 
and  the  children,"  and  ponderous  Corneal  Tyson  led  the 
way  to  the  broad  porch  where  the  big  armchairs  awaited 
them. 


CHAPTER    VI 


A    PERILOUS    JOURNEY 


Toward  sunset  on  the  day  that  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom 
brought  the  news  of  the  capture  of  Chatham  Court  to 
Walnut  Knoll,  Amen  Scurlock,  with  Aunt  Mandy  on 
her  pillion  behind  him,  was  journeying  toward  the  hos- 
pitable home  of  Corneal  Tyson  for  a  visit  of  a  few 
days.  In  many  of  their  views  Scurlock  and  Tyson 
agreed,  and  in  business  matters  they  consulted  each 
other  as  often  as  they  had  opportunity.  The  startling 
movements  of  Fanning  and  his  gang  had  created  great 
uneasiness  among  the  conservative  men  who  strove  to 
be  friendly  with  both  sides  in  the  controversy;  and 
Scurlock,  since  his  return  from  Guilford  and  since  he 
had  heard  the  news  of  the  capture  of  his  kinsman, 
Tom  Scurlock,  felt  that  he  needed  the  advice  and 
friendly  counsel  of  Corneal  Tyson,  for  he  had  great 
faith  in  his  judgment. 

As  they  jogged  along  the  conversation  between  man 
and  wife  was  chiefly  about  their  daughter,  Polly  Ruth- 
erford, for  whom  they  had  found  an  asylum,  not  with- 
out its  perils,  but  a  much  safer  asylum  than  even  her 
own   home. 

"You  are  sure,  old  man,"  said  Aunt  Mandy,  "that 
Polly  Rutherford  is  all  safe  with  Parson  Caldwell's 
folks,  and  that  the  dear  child  has  a  hearty  welcome 
there  ?'* 

50 


A    PERILOUS    JOURNEY  51 

"Why,  Mandy,  have  you  forgot  so  far  our  beloved 
friend  Caldwell  as  to  think  that  our  child  would  not 
be  welcome  under  their  roof?  Why,  she's  the  pet  and 
darling  of  the  house.  All  your  old  neighbors  around 
Buffalo  Meeting  House  want  her  to  stay  around  with 
them,  too;  so  Polly  is  likely  to  have  a  happy  time — 
only  Parson  Caldwell  is  mightily  hated  by  the  Tories, 
and  that  is  the  only  thing  that  keeps  me  at  all  uneasy 
about  the  gal.  I  know  Parson  Caldwell  will  take  all 
the  care  of  her  he  can,  and  it's  better  for  her  to  be 
thar  than  in  reach  of  Jack  Rains  and  Fanning;  and, 
old  woman,  that  is  all  the  comfort  I  can  give  you." 

"I  sometimes  wish  Polly  Rutherford  had  been  horned 
a  boy,  Amen;  'deed  I  do.  I  know  she  would  have  been 
right  into  this  fight  and  might  get  killed  if  she  was  a 
boy,  but  to  have  a  pretty  daughter  like  Polly  worried 
and  harried  and  bedeviled  by  such  creatures  as  Fan- 
ning— fearin'  every  day  she  may  be  run  off  with  and 
foully  dealt  with,  I  declare  'tis  enough  to  run  a  mother 
distracted." 

"Don't  worry,  Mandy;  we  must  do  as  Parson  Cald- 
well told  me  to — 'leave  her  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord' — 
and  it  will  all  work  out  right.  You  just  ought  to  see 
how  trustful  the  Parson  is  when  sometimes  they  are 
a-huntin'  him  like  a  partridge  upon  the  housetop,  and 
he  has  some  nights  to  sleep  in  a  fodder  stack  or  up  a 
tree  in  the  woods.  Thus  far  they  haven't  mistreated 
his  women  folks,  and  I  don't  believe  they  will." 

"You  mean  a  partridge  in  the  mountains;  and  is  that 
the  way  the  Parson  lives,  old  man.^" 

"I  mean  he  is  bein'  hunted  like  a  partridge.  It's 
better  sometimes  than  others;  but  they  know  he  is  true 
to  the  Continentals,  and  whenever  they  make  raids 
like  Fanning  does  he  is  sure  to  suffer." 


52        THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

"If  I'd  'a'  known  that I'm  monstrous  uneasy 

about  Polly  Rutherford;  'deed  I  am,  old  man.  But 
she  is  as  safe  there  as  here,  at  any  rate,  and  we  must 
trust  the  Lord.  I  wish  she  was  happily  married, 
though.  Seems  like  married  women  are  safer  in  these 
times  than  young  gals." 

"Don't  married  women  have  to  trust  the  Lord, 
Mandy.^"  said  Scurlock,  while  Aunt  Mandy  knew  he 
was  laughing,  for  she  felt  his  sides  shake. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  foolish  old  man;  but  'tis  something  to 
have  your  old  man  to  lean  on  when  things  get  danger- 
some.     Now,  sir,  thank  me  for  that  compliment." 

"Much  obliged,  madam,"  said  Scurlock,  with  a  nod 
of  his  head.  "And  now  tell  me,  who  would  you  like 
Polly  Rutherford  to  marry  .^" 

"Her  best  chance,  unless  she  finds  her  man  among 
my  old  neighbors  around  Buffalo  Meetin*  House,  is 
Luke  Stallings;  and  I  have  thought  there  was  some- 
thing betwix'  'em,  haven't  you,  old  man.^*" 

Aunt  i\Iandy  again  felt  Amen  Scurlock's  sides  shake, 
and  in  his  dry  way  he  said  solemnly: 

"Not  as  I  knows  of,  Mandy.  How  would  'Old 
Sides'  do  for  Polly  Rutherford?" 

"Old  Sides Tony  Sidebottom  marry  Polly  Ruth- 
erford? Why,  old  man,  why  didn't  you  say  Corneal 
Tyson  or  Methuselah,  or  some  of  the  antediluvians?'* 

"Well,  Mandy,  Corneal  Tyson  is  too  big  and  short 
winded — he  is  out'n  the  race;  Methuselah  is  dead;  but 
Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom  is  quite  alive  and  very  spry  for 
his  age." 

"Now,  old  man,  why  don't  you  talk  sense?  If  you 
don't  stop  talkin'  foolishness  when  we  begin  plannin* 
for  Polly  Rutherford's  future,  I'll  tickle  you,  and  I'd 
as  well  begin." 


A    PERILOUS    JOURNEY  53 

Aunt  Mandy's  long  slim  fingers  were  soon  finding 
their  way  through  rolls  of  flesh  to  the  ribs  of  her  liege 
lord,  and  Amen,  with  a  squirm  that  eluded  her  grasp, 
dropped  from  the  saddle  into  the  soft  sand,  much  to 
the  amazement  of  his  quiet  old  riding  nag.  The  nag 
stopped  in  the  road  and  gazed  with  a  puzzled  air  at 
Amen  Scurlock,  as,  convulsed  with  laughter,  he  rolled 
over  in  the  sand,  while  Aunt  Mandy  gathered  up  the 
reins,  saying: 

"Well,  I  never!  S'pose  you  are  going  to  walk  the 
balance  of  the  way?" 

"Just  want  to  walk  a  bit,  Mandy,  for  a  change.  We 
are  'most  to  Tyson's  now." 

"Well,  walk,  then;  but  stop  talkin'  that  nonsense 
about  Old  Sides   and  Polly   Rutherford." 

"Well,  comin'  down  to  serious,  sober  earnest,  Mandy, 
Old  Sides  is  a  good  chance  for  Timothy  Shaw's  gal, 
Cynthy,  up  at  the  crossroads,  but  not  for  our  Polly 
Rutherford.  That  wouldn't  be  a  bad  match,  Mandy. 
You  see.  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom  would  have  first  chance 
at  the  folks  livin',  and  Timothy  Shaw  gets  the  last 
chance  at  'em  when  they  are  dead.  S'posin'  you  kinder 
hint  the  combination  to  Old  Sides,  Mandy;  you  mought 
make  the  Doctor  and  Cynthy  very  happy." 

"Lackaday,  Amen  Scurlock,  who  would  'a'  thought 
of  you  turnin'  matchmaker;  but  that's  just  splendid,  and 
I  will  see  how  Old  Sides  takes  to  the  idee." 

"Mandy,  you  axed  me  when  we  first  began  talking 
if  I  didn't  'spicion  somethin'  betwix'  Polly  Rutherford 
and  Luke." 

"Well,  you  said  you  didn't." 

"But  I  told  you  a  fib,  just  for  fun,  you  know.  I 
been  knowin'  for  some  time  that  Luke  loved  Polly 
Rutherford  something  like  I  loved  you;  and  for  a  long 


54f        THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

time  it  didn't  amount  to  a  bunch  of  turnips,  so  far  as 
she  was  consarned.  That's  all  changed,  Mandy,  and 
Polly  loves  Luke  better  than  she  do  you  or  me;  and,  if 
we  have  got  anything  ag'in'  it,  we  had  just  as  well 
try  to  raise  ducks  on  syllabub  as  to  try  and  stop  it." 

"Do  you  want  to  try  and  stop  it,  old  man?" 

"I  can't  exactly  say  as  I  do;  but  Polly  Rutherford  is 
the  best  edecated  gal  on  Brush  Creek,  will  have  a  good 
property,  is  as  pretty  as  June  roses,  and  she  ought  to 
marry  high,  Mandy.  Luke's  a  good  enough  fellow,  but 
he's  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse." 

"Poverty  is  all  that's  ag'in'  Luke,  old  man;  and  if  he 
suits  Polly  Rutherford  she  will  have  enough  to  give 
them  a  good  start.  So  we  will  just  make  the  best 
of  it." 

"I  s'posen  so,"  said  Amen,  then  added:  "Why,  here 
we  are  at  Corneal's,  and  the  dogs  have  found  us  out." 
For  just  then  the  pack  of  hounds,  led  by  old  Boxer, 
jumped  the  picket  fence  into  the  road  and  barked  their 
welcome  to  the  newly  arrived. 

"Been  lookin'  for  ye  ever  since  ye  got  back  from 
Guilford,"  roared  Corneal  Tyson  as  he  waddled  out  to 
meet  his  guests,  followed  by  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom. 
"Welcome  to  ye,  Mandy,  and  to  Amen,  too.  Come  in. 
Ye  liked  to  have  made  it  all  day  gettin'  here." 

"My  wife  spilled  me  in  the  road,"  said  Scurlock  with 
a  quizzical  look. 

"Now,  old  man,  if  you  begin  I'll  tell  it  all." 

"Well,  not  just  yet,  old  woman.  Fact  is,  we  got  so 
busy  talkin'  and  settlin'  the  affairs  of  everybody  that 
we  traveled  very  slow,  and  I  walked  a  good  bit  of  the 
way.     How's  Charley  Sheering.^" 

"Charley  is  walkin'  around  with  his  neck  in  a  sling — 
holds  his  head  a  bit  to  one  side,  but  he   is  powerful 


A    PERILOUS    JOURNEY  55 

sassy  and  sw'ars  he'll  kill  Fanning  if  ever  he  gets  a 
chance/'  replied  Tyson. 

"Charley  is  a  man  to  keep  his  word,  Corneal.  I'd 
hate  to  have  him  say  that  about  me/'  said  Scurlock. 

"I  wish,  for  Hannah's  sake,  that  Charley  hadn't  the 
enmity  of  the  Fanning  gang,  Amen.  The  gal  loves  him 
so,  and,  strange  to  say,  she  upholds  him  in  it,  and  says 
she  had  rather  they'd  bring  Charley  home  to  her  dead 
or  maimed  for  life  than  to  have  him  run  from  sich  a 
dirty  crowd." 

"Hannah's  worth  her  weight  in  golden  guineas.  Cor- 
neal," said  Dr.  Tony.  "You  may  'burn  the  woods  and 
sift  the  ashes,'  as  the  saying  goes,  before  you  find  an- 
other Hannah;  and,  if  all  the  men  were  like  her,  Corn- 
wallis'  army  and  Fanning's  gang  wouldn't  find  room 
enough  in  North  Carolina  to  whip  a  dog." 

"There  you  go  again.  Old  Sides;  it's  a  wonder  Rains 
and  Fanning  don't  get  hold  of  you  and  give  you  a  free 
tramp  to  Wilmington." 

"They  are  afeared  they  might  need  my  services 
probin'  for  Whig  bullits  in  their  carcasses.  Corneal. 
Ah!  wouldn't  I  like  the  job  of  cuttin'  lead  out  of  Fan- 
ning and  Jack  Rains.'*  I'd  like  to  see  the  devils  squirm 
like  'a  worm  in  hot  ashes.'  " 

"Come  along  in,  all  of  ye;  and  you  go  tell  that  talk 
to  Charley,  Tony,"  said  Tyson.  "He  will  enjoy  it. 
Nothin'  cheers  him  up  so  much  as  a  little  abuse  of  the 
Tories.  Mandy,  you  and  Amen  take  seats  out  in  the 
cool.  Hannah  will  be  out  here  directly,"  and  Corneal 
waddled  into  the  yard,  calling:  "Jake,  you  black  rascal! 
Asleep  ag'in.'*  Come  and  take  Mr.  Scurlock's  mare. 
Down,  Boxer;  you  dogs  are  about  to  take  the  place 
with  your  yelpin'  and  howlin'." 

Hannah   Sheering  was  not  long  in  coming  to  greet 


56   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

her  guests,  for  Amen  Scurlock  and  Aunt  Mandy  were 
great  favorites,  and,  to  Hannah  and  Aunt  Mandy  her 
Rebel  sentiments  were  particularly  agreeable,  while 
Amen's  Tory  views  were  too  mild  to  offend. 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you.  Uncle  Scurlock,  and  you, 
Aunt  Mandy.  I  feel  like  a  good  talk  with  Aunt  Mandy 
would  do  me  good,"  was  her  greeting. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  too,  child.  Where  are  the  chil- 
dren?" 

"They  are  with  Charley,  Aunt  Mandy;  they  make  it 
lively  for  him,  poor  fellow,  and  make  him  kinder  forget 
his  troubles." 

"Don't  he  seem  to  mend?" 

"Oh,  yes;  but  he  is  so  restless,  and  broods  over  all 
the  news  he  hears  about  the  way  Fanning  and  Jack 
Rains  are  treating  our  people.  I  thought  this  morning, 
when  Dr.  Tony  told  him  of  the  capture  of  the  Court  at 
Pittsboro,  that  he  would  go  daft,  he  was  that  excited. 
The  doctor  had  to  give  him  something  to  quiet  him." 

Just  then  Dr.  Sidebottom  came  out  on  the  porch  and 
called  Amen  Scurlock. 

"Say,  Scurlock,  leave  these  women  folk  to  give  the 
Tories  the  devil  while  you  come  in  and  see  Charley. 
He  wants  to  see  ye." 

Scurlock  found  Charley  Sheering  lying  on  a  comfort- 
able old  settee,  his  neck  swathed  in  bandages,  and 
decidedly  reduced  in  flesh  by  the  suppuration  of  his 
wound  and  confinement  to  the  house.  Master  Cornelius 
was  astride  of  his  chest,  just  getting  ready  to  charge 
the  Tories,  while  darling  little  Sarah  was  plaiting 
daddy's  long  brown  beard  and  tying  it  with  a  piece  of 
red  string. 

We  will  leave  them  all  as  we  found  them  for  the 
present,  and  return  to  Aunt  Mandy  and  Hannah;  for 


A    PERILOUS   JOURNEY  51 

through  Hannah's  questionings  will  we  find  out  some- 
thing about  the  perilous  journey  that  ended  in  Polly- 
Rutherford's  reaching  the  Caldwells  in  safety. 

"So  Polly  Rutherford  got  to  Parson  Caldwell's  all 
right,  Aunt  Mandy?" 

"She  got  there,  but  oh,  child,  what  a  time  they  had! 
If  I'd  'a'  known  what  she  would  have  risked,  she'd 
never  have  gone,  never !  You  see,  child,  all  around  the 
country  there  was  stragglin'  bands  of  soldiers.  Since 
the  battle  of  Guilford  Court  House,  Cornwallis  has  been 
gathering  his  troops  and  his  Tory  recruits  at  Wilming- 
ton, and  the  roads  between  Guilford  and  Chatham  is 
beset  with  raidin'  parties  and  foragers.  Somehow, 
Fanning  and  Jack  Rains  got  wind  of  Polly  Ruther- 
ford's goin',  and  Luke  and  the  old  man  came  nigh  to  a 
fight  with  Steve  Walker  and  two  of  his  gang  right  in 
the  road  about  ten  miles  from  our  house.  Polly  Ruth- 
erford writ  me  all  about  it,  and  when  Amen  came  back 
he  brought  the  letter,  and  I  am  goin'  to  let  you  read  it, 
Hannah.  It  sounds  like  the  tales  they  print  in  books. 
Here  'tis.'* 

"Near  Old  Buffalo,  July  10,  1781. 

"My  Dearest  Mammy: 

"I  know  you  have  been  uneasy  about  your  little  girl, 
and  the  first  thing  to  tell  you  is  that  I  am  safe  and 
happy.  I  am  just  as  happy  as  I  can  be  away  from 
you,  and  if  Aunt  Rachael,  as  I  call  Mrs.  Caldwell,  was 
my  own  mother  she  couldn't  be  sweeter  to  me  than  she 
is.  Parson  Caldwell  is  the  grandest  and  loveliest  of 
men,  and  makes  such  a  pet  of  me  when  he  is  at  home  I 
fear  you  will  find  me  quite  a  spoilt  child  on  my  return 
home. 

"But  I  must  tell  you  something  about  how  we  got 


58   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

here,  and  what  an  awful  time  we  had  on  the  road. 
You  remember  we  left  home  on  Thursday  morning, 
before  day,  and  hoped  to  pass  Jack  Rains  and  be 
out  of  reach  of  the  Fanning  troop  before  dawn.  We 
succeeded  in  passing  Jack  Rains  unobserved,  and 
Daddy  brightened  up  a  good  deal  and  seemed  to  be 
greatly  relieved,  for  I  could  see  he  feared  some  trouble. 
Just  as  we  drew  near  the  crossroads,  a  little  after  sun- 
rise, we  saw  three  horses  tied  in  front  of  Timothy 
Shaw's  workshop,  and  Luke  recognized  one  of  them  as 
belonging  to  what  he  called  'Fanning's  gang.' 

"  'Is  your  rifle  loaded,  Mr.  Scurlock?'  asked  Luke, 
and  Daddy  replied  that  it  was.  Luke  then  examined 
his  own  rifle  and  the  pistols  in  his  holsters,  and  we 
rode  on  up  to  the  shop.  Sitting  inside  the  door  and 
talking  to  old  Timothy  Shaw  while  he  was  at  work 
on  a  coflin  sat  three  men.  Daddy  told  me  afterward 
that  the  big,  coarse-looking  one  was  Steve  Walker;  the 
youngest-looking  one.  Jack  Rains'  son;  and  the  third 
man  was  a  stranger  both  to  him  and  to  Luke. 

"We  were  about  to  ride  by  without  halting,  when 
Steve  Walker  came  out,  saying,  'Hello,  Amen  Scur- 
lock. You  needn't  be  in  sich  a  devil  of  a  hurry.'  Now, 
wasn't  that  awful  for  him  to  say  before  a  young  girl. 
Mammy?  'But  I  am  in  a  hurry,'  replied  Daddy;  'we 
have  an  all-day  ride  before  us.'  'Have  you  any  objec- 
tion to  company?'  asked  Walker.  'That  depends  upon 
the  company,'  replied  Daddy;  and  I  could  see  that  he 
was  getting  mad,  sure  enough.  'It  seems  you  are  not 
very  choice  in  the  company  yer  daughter  keeps,  Scur- 
lock; allowin'  that  scapegrace  of  a  Rebel  to  go  with 
her  anywheres.  I  guess,  boys,  we  had  better  take 
charge  of  him,'  said  Walker,  calling  to  the  others. 

"I  turned  toward  Luke,  and  saw  that  we  were  in 


A    PERILOUS   JOURNEY  59 

danger  of  a  battle,  and  feared  that  some  one  would  be 
killed  right  before  my  eves.  He  had  dropped  his  reins, 
and  in  each  hand  he  held  a  pistol.  Daddy  had  raised 
his  rifle,  and  Steve  Walker  didn't  like  that,  for  he  knew 
Daddy  was  a  dead  shot.  Presently  Daddy  spoke  out, 
and  with  no  uncertain  words. 

"  'Steve  Walker,  I  am  a  law-abiding  citizen  of  this 
Province,  and  have  never  yet  done  anything  contrary 
to  law,  but  there  is  one  thing  a  Scurlock  never  sub- 
mitted to  yet,  and  that  was  any  meddling  with  his 
private  rights.  My  daughter  and  her  friend  are  going 
with  me  on  a  visit  to  friends  up  the  country.  Where 
we  are  going  and  why  we  are  going  does  not  concern 
you  or  anyone  else.  If  we  are  allowed  to  proceed 
without  your  interference,  we  will  do  so;  if  it  is  neces- 
sary to  enforce  our  rights,  we  will  do  that,  and  conse- 
quences rest  with  you.' 

"  'You  and  your  daughter  can  go  where  you  please, 
Amen  Scurlock.  I  want  no  trouble  with  you;  but  we 
want  Luke  Stallings,"  replied  Walker. 

"  'It  will  take  more  men  than  you  have  here  to  get 
him,'  said  Luke.  'I  have  not  molested  you,  but  have 
been  threatened  by  your  gang.  Come,  Mr.  Scurlock, 
let  me  kill  two  of  them;  you  can  manage  Walker;  and 
they  are  right  handy  where  Timothy  Shaw  can  take 
their  measures.' 

"Luke  was  just  as  cool.  Mammy,  as  a  cucumber  in 
spring  water;  and  those  cowardly  bullies  knew  they 
had  met  their  match.  I  sat  there  trembling,  but  I  was 
not  scared,  Mammv.  Then  Daddv  said,  in  that  cool 
way  he  has,  'Don't  fire  until  I  tell  you,  Luke;  I  will 
give  them  another  chance  to  keep  the  peace.  Have  you 
finished  your  business  with  Timothy  Shaw,  Steve  Wal- 
ker?' 


60   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"  'We  have  a  right  to  be  at  Timothy  Shaw's/  he  re- 
plied; and  began  to  finger  his  rifle  trigger. 

"Luke  cocked  both  of  his  pistols.  *I  grant  that  you 
have  a  right  to  be  here  or  anywhere/  continued  Daddy, 
'provided  your  being  there  or  here  isn't  for  the  purpose 
of  lawless  deeds.  Luke  Stallings  is  my  traveling  com- 
panion and  is  going  viith  me.  I  am  not  going  to  have 
you  and  your  gang  dogging  my  steps  on  the  road. 
Mount,  all  three  of  you,  and  take  the  back  track.  When 
Amen  Scurlock  wants  your  company  he  will  let  you 
know.' 

"Old  Timothy  Shaw  had  listened  to  all  that  had 
passed  without  a  word,  and  he  now  spoke,  saying,  with 
a  shake  of  his  grizzled  head  and  beard,  'Amen  Scur- 
lock is  in  the  right,  Steve  Walker;  he  has  always  been 
a  law-abiding  citizen,  and  I  want  no  blood  shed  at  my 
shop.  Just  mount  your  horse  and  leave  peaceably,  or 
there  is  sure  to  be  trouble.' 

"Walker's  eyes  snapped  as  he  said,  'You  are  a 
chicken-hearted  devil,  Tim;  always  was.  Now,  Amen 
Scurlock,  remember,  Colonel  Fanning  will  have  a  score 
to  settle  ag'in'  ye  for  harboring  Luke  Stallings,  a 
rebel  ag'in'  His  Majesty,  King  George;  and  we  will 
see  both'n  ye  when  you  come  back.'  With  these  last 
words  they  mounted  their  horses  and  scurried  off  by 
the  road  we  had  come,  leaving  us,  at  least  temporarily, 
a  safe  road  for  our  journey. 

"That  night  we  reached  the  home  of  Daddy's  old 
Quaker  friend  on  Sandy  Creek,  in  Randolph.  His 
name  was  Aaron  Goodman;  his  wife  was  Ruhamah 
Gray,  from  near  Buffalo  Meeting  House;  and  they  had 
a  son  named  Gershom  and  a  daughter,  about  my  age, 
named  Hepsebah.  Gershom  is  quite  a  good-looking 
young  man,  but  he  tries  to  lock  as  old  as  his  father, 


A    PERILOUS    JOURNEY  61 

and  looks  like  one  of  the  patriarchs  in  his  sad-colored 
clothes.  Hepsebah  is  a  pretty,  quaint-looking  little 
creature,  and  has  life  enough  in  her,  if  she  was  not 
thee'd  and  thou'd  to  death.  The  night  we  spent  there  j  i 
Hepsebah  had  a  quilting,  and  the  fun  I  had  in  watching  j  i 
those  Quaker  folk  trying  to  enjoy  themselves  without 
making  a  noise  made  me  forget  the  perils  of  the  way. 
Hepsebah,  or  'Hepsy,*  as  I  called  her,  took  a  great 
liking  to  me,  and  I  think  Aaron  and  Ruhamah  were 
a  little  bit  glad  to  see  me  go,  because  they  feared  that 
I  might  give  Hepsy  a  few  enlarged  ideas  about  the 
pleasures  to  be  seen  outside  of  a  Quaker  family. 

"They  had  an  apple-paring  match — a  match  to  see 
who  could  pick  the  most  seed  from  a  sack  of  cotton 
placed  by  the  side  of  each  one — winding  up  with  a 
candy  pulling.  I  did  get  them  to  try  a  game  of  'for- 
feits,' and  the  young  people  enjoyed  redeeming  the 
forfeits  very  much.  There  was  a  handsome  young  fel- 
low there  named  Harlan  Howell,  who  was  deeply  in 
love  with  Hepsy;  and  she  would  have  encouraged  him 
but  for  her  parents;  so  I  determined  to  give  them  a 
chance,  as  I  imposed  all  the  penalties.  Harlan  had 
pledged  his  new  jack-knife,  and  was  anxious  for  his 
opportunity  to  repossess  it,  determined  to  face  the 
strongest  penalty  I  could  impose.  Fortunately,  Aaron 
and  Ruhamah  were  not  in  the  room  at  the  time,  so  I 
dared  to  say,  'The  o^vner  of  this  jDledge  must  kneel 
to  the  wittiest,  bow  to  the  prettiest,  and  kiss  the  girl 
he  loves  best.'  There  was  a  profound  silence  for  a 
moment,  everyone  looking  at  Harlan  with  wonder  and 
curiosity.  He  arose,  his  face  about  the  color  of  our 
reddest  hollyhock;  kneeled  to  me,  Mammy — you  see,  I 
was  the  wittiest — then  he  crossed  over  to  where  Hepsy 
sat  blushing,  bowed  to  her,  and  then  gave  her  a  rousing 


/ 


62   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

kiss  right  upon  her  soft  red  lips.  Oh!  Oh!  Oh!  was 
heard  from  more  than  a  dozen  voices,  while  Hepsy, 
with  a  bomid,  was  out  of  the  room  and  hid  herself 
for  fully  half  an  hour  in  the  lilac  bushes.  Harlan 
Howell  put  his  jack-knife  in  his  pocket  and  resumed 
his  seat  as  if  nothing  very  remarkable  had  happened; 
but  I  slept  with  Hepsy  that  night,  and  from  something 
she  said  in  her  sleep  I  think  that  kiss  made  a  match. 

"Luke  helped  me  to  entertain  the  young  people,  and 
I  venture  to  assert.  Mammy,  that  Aaron  and  Ruhamah 
never  saw  young  folks  have  as  much  fun  or  laugh  as 
heartily  in  all  their  lives  before. 

"The  following  day  we  took  leave  of  our  Quaker 
friends  with  mutual  good  wishes.  I  shook  hands  with 
Gershom  and  gave  his  hand  a  good  grip,  but  it  felt  as 
clammy  as  a  toad,  and  I  let  it  go  very  quickly.  I 
kissed  dear  little  Hepsy  and  whispered  to  her,  'I  knew 
it  was  not  as  sweet  as  the  one  she  had  last  night,'  and 
she  blushed  very  sweetly,  but  didn't  deny  my  saying. 

"Daddy  told  me  that  we  would  spend  one  more  night 
on  the  road,  and  as  we  knew  not  with  certainty  where 
that  would  be,  and  as  we  were  drawing  nearer  to  the 
track  along  which  Cornwallis'  army  had  marched,  I 
could  not  help  feeling  nervous.  Toward  sunset  we 
reached  an  old  farmhouse  well  shaded  by  apple  and 
cherry  trees,  with  a  long  well  sweep  in  the  center  of  a 
little  grass  plot  between  the  house  and  the  main  road. 
It  was  a  restful-looking  spot,  and  I  suggested  that  it 
would  be  a  quiet  place  to  spend  the  night.  'So  it  would, 
daughter,'  said  Daddy;  and,  dismounting,  he  approached 
the  picket  fence  and  called. 

"Presently  an  old  woman  wearing  a  high  ruffled  cap 
and  short  gray  linsey  gown  came  to  the  little  porch 
and  said^  'Who  be  you  and  what  do  ye  want.^'     Daddy 


A    PERILOUS    JOURNEY  63 

told  her  his  name  and  Luke's,  too,  and  that  I  was  his 
daughter,  and,  being  tired,  we  desired  rest  for  the 
night.  The  old  lady  wore  silver-rimmed  spectacles  and 
her  cheeks  were  smooth  and  pink,  her  hair  white  and 
curly,  and  her  smile  was  very  winning  as  she  answered 
our  request.  'We  have  frequently  to  give  shelter, 
friends,  and  I  cannot  say  thee  nay;  come  in.  My  only 
son  is  away  with  Greene's  army,  and  I  live  alone  with 
my  servants.  I  know  not  thy  siding  in  this  unhappy 
war,  but  we  are  Continentals.' 

"  'Then  we  shall  feel  safe,'  said  Daddy.  'My  daugh- 
ter is  very  loyal  to  her  people,  and  Luke  here  is  going 
to  join  a  Continental  troop.  I  am  getting  old,  madam, 
and  prefer  no  active  part  in  the  struggle.' 

"  *  Ye  are  all  welcome ;  as  to  your  being  safe,  that  de- 
pends on  whether  Fields  and  his  raiders  happen  to  pass 
this  way  to-night.  The  Tories  bear  me  no  good  will, 
friends,  because  my  son,  John  Paisly,  is  a  colonel  in 
Greene's  army;  and  when  their  marauding  exploits  lead 
them  along  this  road  they  seem  to  take  delight  in  de- 
stroying my  property.' 

"  'It's  only  cowardly  natures  that  injure  and  despoil 
women,  madam,'  said  Luke.  'I  hope  you  will  be  spared 
a  visitation  to-night,  but  I  cannot  stand  by  and  see  you 
maltreated,  and,  come  what  will,  shall  defend  you.' 

"  'You  are  a  brave-looking  lad,  but  I  fear  the  Tories 
would  be  too  many  for  ye;  they  do  their  cowardly  work 
in  squads,  striving  to  make  up  in  number  what  they 
lack  in  bravery.  Let  us  hope  their  emprises  lead  them 
elsewhere  to-night.  Come  and  refresh  yourselves  with  a 
little  cool  water,  for  supper  will  soon  be  ready.'  Mrs. 
Ruth  Paisly  led  me  into  a  small  room  opening  into  her 
own,  where  I  found  a  couch  with  snowy  coverlet;  an 
easy,   rush-bottom  chair;   a  small  mirror  hung  against 


64   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

the  wall;  and  a  noggin  of  cool^  fresh  water,  with  large 
towels  hanging  on  a  rack  nearby.  'Make  thyself  tidy, 
child/  she  said,  'and  then  come  out  to  the  cook,  jom, 
where  supper  will  be  waiting,'  and  the  sweet  old  lady 
vanished  into  her  own  room  like  a  graceful  shadow. 
The  presence  of  that  sweet  old  lady.  Mammy,  is  ever 
with  me.  She  was  so  genial,  so  bright,  and  bore  the 
ills  of  life  so  beautifully. 

*'We  had  finished  supper  more  than  an  hour,  and 
were  chatting  pleasantly  out  on  the  little  porch,  when 
the  old  lady  gave  a  start  and  exclaimed,  'Oh!  I  fear 
they  are  coming !  I  hear  the  tramp  of  horses  and 
the  clank  of  sabres.  Chloe !  Chloe !  come  here.'  Her 
call  was  answered  by  the  appearance  around  the  corner 
of  the  porch  of  a  negress  of  gigantic  proportions,  who 
asked  in  strong  tones,  not  unlike  the  voice  of  a  man, 
*What  you  want.  Old  Miss.?' 

"'Don't  you  hear  those  horses,  Chloe?  I  fear  'tis 
another  raid.'  *I  hears  'em,  marm;  you  lef  'em  to 
me;'  and  the  old  giantess  started  off  down  to  the  little 
gate  that  led  out  into  the  road.  Meanwhile,  Daddy 
and  Luke  got  their  firearms  and  told  Mrs.  Paisly  they 
were  determined  no  intruder  should  enter  her  home 
that  night. 

**We  could  hear  the  horsemen  when  they  halted,  and 
could  even  hear  the  conversation  between  their  leader 
and  Chloe;  while  Luke,  armed  with  pistols  and  rifle, 
crept  through  the  shrubbery  down  near  to  the  gate, 
that  he  might  ascertain  the  number  of  the  raiding  party. 
Their  leader  called  out  to  Chloe  as  they  drew  rein — 
and  there  were  just  five  in  the  party,  'Well,  old  witch, 
who  have  ye  got  at  home  to-night?  Any  Rebs  around?' 
*What  you  axe  me  dat  fur?  What  I  know  'bout  Rebs? 
Dar's  nobody  at  home   'ceptin'   Old  Miss   and  a  lady 


A    PERILOUS   JOURNEY  65 

friend  and  an  old  gent  and  a  young  chap.*  *Whar  are 
these  folks  from^  old  witch?'  'None  ob  my  business, 
Captain  Field,  and  I  ain't  axed;  but  'tis  my  opinion 
you  better  not  mess  wid  'em — dey  looks  like  folks  what 
don't  meddle  wid  folks,  and  don't  take  no  foolishness.' 
'They  do !  I  reckon  we  had  better  look  arter  them  a 
bit,  boys.  Dismount  and  we  will  interview  them.' 
Just  then  we  heard  Luke  challenge  them,  saying,  'Halt, 
men !  I  know  not  who  you  are,  but  we  are  guests  of 
Mrs.  Paisly  for  the  night,  and  do  not  intend  to  have 
her  home  invaded  and  searched.  Let  me  tell  you  there 
are  enough  of  us  here  to  get  away  with  your  whole 
party,  and  unless  you  go  away  at  once  we  will  fire  on 
you.'  'That's  heavy  bluff,'  said  the  voice  of  Field,  'but 
we  don't  respond  to  any  such  call.  Who  are  you,  any- 
way?' 'I  don't  know  as  that  is  any  of  your  business; 
we  are  traveling  on  affairs  that  concern  neither  King 
nor  country,  and  only  ask  to  be  peaceably  let  alone. 
Daddy  Scurlock,  bring  your  men  down.' 

"There  was  a  heavy  tramp  of  feet,  for  Mrs.  Paisly 
had  sent  to  the  quarter  for  six  stalwart  negro  men; 
and  in  the  moonlight,  as  they  came  tramping  down  the 
path,  each  with  a  hoe  on  his  shoulder,  they  gave  the 
appearance  of  a  squad  of  well-armed  men.  'By  gosh, 
boys,  the  old  witch  has  lied  to  us,'  exclaimed  Fields, 
'and  we  had  better  mount  our  creatures  and  git.'  So 
before  Daddy  and  his  darky  recruits  reached  the  gate. 
Fields  and  his  squad  were  scurrying  down  the  road 
at  a  full  gallop,  and  we  were  left  to  enjoy  a  peaceful 
and  restful  night. 

"The  next  afternoon,  before  sundown,  we  reached 
Parson  Caldwell's^  and  Aunt  Rachael  gave  us  a  hearty 
greeting.  Not  long  after  we  reached  there  the  dear 
old  parson  got  home   from  one  of   his  pastoral  visita- 


66   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

tions,  and  from  mending  the  broken  leg  of  another 
parishioner;  and,  although  he  was  worn  out  bodily,  he 
gave  daddy  such  a  hug  and  me  such  a  rousing  kiss  that 
Luke  exclaimed,  'Gracious !  how  I  would  like  to  be  a 
parson.'  Give  my  love  to  all  my  friends,  Mammy;  and, 
while  I  am  enjoying  myself  ever  so  much,  let  me  know 
the  earliest  time  I  can  return  to  my  beloved  home. 

**Your  dutiful  daughter, 
*ToLLY  Rutherford  Scurlock/* 


CHAPTER    VII 

FANNING    VISITS    CORNEAL    TYSON 

"That  job  of  capturin'  Chatham  Court  was  a  neat 
un,  Colonel,"  said  Jack  Rains,  as  Fanning,  Steve 
Walker,  and  a  few  choice  spirits  of  the  gang  were 
gathered  in  the  Rains  cabin. 

"That  is  but  a  circumstance.  Jack,"  replied  Fan- 
ning. "Our  next  swoop  will  paralyze  rebellion  in  this 
Province,  I'm  thinking;  but  I  must  have  another  mount. 
Didn't  you  say  Corneal  Tyson  had  some  fine  horses?" 

"He  have,  for  a  fact.  Colonel;  and  the  stingy  old 
devil  ought  to  show  his  loyalty  by  presenting  you  with 
his  famous  gelding,  'Red  Buck.'  " 

"Suppose,  then,  we  ride  over  to  Tyson's  to-morrow. 
I  am  going  to  test  his  loyalty  as  well  as  his  hospi- 
tality. We  will  also  go  around  by  Charley  Sheering's 
place  and  see  if  there  are  any  signs  of  life  about 
there." 

"Did  you  know,  Colonel,  that  Sheering's  wife  was 
Corneal  Tyson's  niece  and  prospective  heir?" 

"No,  is  that  a  fact?" 

"Yes,  'tis  a  fact;  but  old  Corneal  don't  hold  with 
Charley  Sheering's  rebellious  notions,  and,  they  tell 
me,  gives  him  the  blunt  end  of  his  mind  about  it.  At 
any  rate,  we  will  know  more  by  to-morrow  this  time 
than  we  do  now,  so  I'll  post  guard,  and  then  ye  can 
turn  in  for  the  night." 

The  following  morning  Fanning,  Rains,  and  Walker 

67' 


68   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

rode  away  in  the  direction  of  Charley  Sheering's  home 
soon  after  daylight,  reaching  the  deserted  spot  about 
nine  o'clock. 

"High!  Rains!  the  place  is  deserted;  nobody  at 
home,"  exclaimed  Fanning  as  he  tied  his  horse  and 
dismounted.  "I  wonder,"  he  continued,  "if  I  did  kill 
the  rebellious  rascal.^" 

"I  doubt  it.  Colonel.  Sheering's  like  a  cat — got  nine 
lives — and  is  liable  to  turn  up  most  any  time  when 
we  ain't  a-lookin';  and  I'd  'bout  as  soon  meet  the 
devil." 

"I  believe  Sheering's  the  only  man  you  are  afraid  of. 
Rains." 

"I'm  not  afeard  of  him,  hand  to  hand,  Colonel,  but 
he  fights  fast  and  furious.  I'm  afeard  of  his  quickness, 
and  you  had  better  be — if  ever  he  gets  a  pull  at  yer 
you  are  a  goner." 

"Well,  he  is  a  goner,  at  any  rate,  for  'tis  certain  no 
one  lives  here.  Rains.  One  of  old  Parson  Rowe's  nests 
is  broken  up." 

"I'm  afeard.  Colonel,  old  Parson  Davy  is  a  leetle 
rocky  in  his  loyalty,  for  while  he  preaches  King 
George,  he  sympathizes  with  a  damned  Whig  if  he  hap- 
pens to  get  the  punishment  he  deserves  at  our  hands. 
I'm  watchin'  the  old  fellow." 

"Never  do  you  mind  about  Parson  Davy,  Rains;  he 
is  true  at  heart,  and  there  are  other  folks  we  want  to 
watch  more  than  he.  There's  Scurlock;  his  loyalty 
isn't  worth  a  cuss,  and  I  am  going  to  twist  a  hundred 
guineas  out  of  his  buckskin  pouch  before  I  leave  Brush 
Creek,  or  my  name's  not  David  Fanning.  He  shall 
pay  well  to  be  left  in  quiet  possession  of  his  comfort- 
able home,  or  he  will  learn  how  easily  light  wood 
kindles  a  fire." 


FANNING    VISITS    CORNEAL    TYSON      69 

"Oh,  I  been  watchin'  Scurlock,  Colonel;  he  and  that 
old  hag,  Mandy,  is  at  Corneal  Tyson's  now,  a-visitin'. 
They  think  they  are  safe  under  his  loyal  roof,  as  thar 
roof  warn't  anything  but  a  rebel  harbor,  and  they  were 
afeard  we  would  pay  'em  a  visit." 

"I  told  'em  we  would  do  that  thing,  when  Scurlock 
and  that  scamp,  Luke  Stallings,  was  a-carryin'  Polly 
Rutherford  away,"  said  Steve  Walker. 

"Leave  all  that  to  me,  boys,"  said  Fanning;  "we 
need  money  for  our  campaign  expenses,  I  need  another 
fine  horse,  and  Scurlock  and  Tyson  must  furnish  them. 
See  how  smoothly  I  will  manage  it  all.  But  let  us 
leave  this  desolate  spot  and  ride  on  to  Tyson's;  he  dines 
early,  does  he  not.  Rains  .^" 

"He  do.  Colonel,  and  rations  is  abundant.  Forward 
is  the  word,"  replied  Rains. 

About  eleven  o'clock  Fanning  and  his  followers  rode 
up  to  the  horse  rack  in  front  of  Corneal  Tyson's  gate. 
The  tramp  of  their  horses  and  clank  of  their  sabres 
brought  old  Boxer  and  the  whole  pack  of  hounds  out 
into  the  road,  and  their  yelping  and  barking,  mingled 
with  the  trumpet  voice  of  Tyson,  made  "confusion 
worse  confounded." 

"Do-vvn,  down.  Boxer !  Dad  blame  the  dogs !"  and 
Tyson,  seizing  a  large  wagon  whip  that  hung  on  the 
porch,  soon  produced  a  pop,  pop,  that  scattered  the 
dogs  in  every  direction. 

Soon  his  stout  frame  stood  in  the  presence  of  the 
much-talked-of  Fanning,  as  he  bade  his  guests  welcome. 
"Tie  your  horses  and  come  in,  gentlemen.  Howdy  do. 
Colonel  Fanning.  Howdy,  Jack.  Howdy,  Steve.  Ye 
are  jest  in  time  for  dinner,  and,  as  luck  would  have  it, 
I've  got  a  squirrel  stew.  First  we've  had;  little  early 
for  squirrels,  ye  know." 


70   THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

"You  must  know  my  weakness,  Mr.  Tyson ;  I  am  very 
fond  of  squirrels,  and,  when  frost  comes  in  the  fall,  the 
most  toothsome  meat  is   'possum,"   said  Fanning. 

"You  are  a  jedge  of  meats.  Colonel.  Come  in,  all 
un  ye,  and  take  a  wash.  Here,  Jake!  'Sleep  again, 
you  black  rascal.'*  Fetch  a  bucket  of  cool  water  and 
fill  them  noggins  afore  you  take  the  bosses." 

While  the  dusty  riders  were  making  their  ablutions 
at  the  further  end  of  the  porch,  two  confabs  were  going 
on  inside.  Hannah  was  engaged  in  dishing  up  the 
squirel  stew,  as  Aunt  Mandy  entered,  saying,  "Land 
sakes,  child!  who  do  ye  think  has  come  to  dinner?" 

"Dr.  Tony,  I  guess,"  said  Hannah. 

"No,  child;  it's  three  of  the  Old  Boy's  own — Fan- 
ning, Jack  Rains,  and  Steve  Walker." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Mandy!  what  shall  I  do?  I  can  never 
sit  at  the  table  with  these  creatures,  never." 

"You  needn't  to,  child;  just  stay  in  the  cookroom  and 
with  Charley;  and,  for  the  land's  sake,  don't  let  him 
know  Fanning  is  here,  or  we  will  have  trouble.  I  will 
attend  to  the  table  and  carry  in  everything." 

Daddy  Scurlock  had  been  on  the  porch  and  had  seen 
Fanning  and  his  followers  as  they  came  up  the  road, 
and,  preferring  to  meet  them  a  little  later,  he  had 
gone  into  Charley  Sheering's  room  to  prepare  him  for 
the  coming  of  their  enemy,  and  to  endeavor  to  persuade 
him  to  remain  quietly  in  his  room  until  their  visit 
should  be  over. 

"I  thought  I  heard  the  tramp  of  horses,  Daddy  Scur- 
lock. Did  any  one  come?  What  were  the  hounds 
making  all  that  fuss  for?"  asked  Charley. 

"I  am  going  to  tell  ye,  Charley,  but  you  must  prom- 
ise me  to  stay  right  here  and  not  try  to  see  the  visi- 
tors." 


FANNING    VISITS    CORNEAL    TYSON      71 

"Suppose  I  won't  promise  you^  Daddy  Scurlock?'* 

"Then  you  will  have  to  stay  anyhow,  Charley,  for 
in  the  fix  you  be  I  am  stronger  than  you  are." 

"What  do  you  mean.  Daddy  Scurlock?" 

"I  mean  that  Fanning,  Jack  Rains,  and  Steve 
Walker  are  here  to  dinner,  and  you  must  not  let  them 
know  that  you  are  here.  I  think  they  have  a  purpose 
in  coming,  and,  if  they  get  what  they  come  for,  they 
will  leave  before  sunset.  You  keep  quiet,  Charley,  and 
I  will  tell  you  all  about  their  visit  when  they  are 
gone." 

"If  I  were  only  strong  and  able  to  battle,  I  fear  me 
your  good  advice  would  not  be  taken.  Daddy  Scurlock; 
but  I  have  no  choice.  My  lack  of  strength  bids  me 
heed  your  judgment.  Oh,  for  strength  to  punish  that 
trio  of  scoundrels !" 

"Have  patience,  Charley;  that  trio  will  meet  their 
doom  in  God's  time.  Keep  quiet;  I  must  go  out  and 
see  those  fellows  before  dinner." 

Daddy  Scurlock  walked  out  on  the  porch  and  found 
Corneal  Tyson  chatting  with  Colonel  Fanning,  while 
Steve  Walker  and  Jack  Rains  were  engaged  in  a  low 
conversation  that  was  not  intended  for  other  ears;  but, 
as  Scurlock  drew  near,  he  heard  Jack  Rains  say,  "I 
believe  he  is  hid  here,  right  here,  and  old  Corneal 
Tyson  will  bear  watchin',  too." 

Scurlock  extended  his  hand  to  Colonel  Fanning,  and 
then  to  Rains  and  Walker,  saying,  "Howdy  do,  all," 
and  quietly  took  one  of  the  big  split-bottom  chairs. 

"So  you've  got  back  from  up  country,  Amen.^"  said 
Walker  with  a  wicked  leer. 

"Don't  you   see   I   have?"   replied    Scurlock  bluntly. 

"All  didn't  come  back  that  went.  What  did  ye  do 
with  the  darter  and  Luke».'^" 


72   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"I  think  you  have  got  a  lot  of  impudence,  Steve 
Walker;  when  they  fetched  you  up,  manners  was  left 
out.  My  darter  is  where  she  intended  to  go,  and  Luke 
is  attending  to  his  own  affairs.  Pity  you  don't  profit 
by  his  example." 

Colonel  Fanning  had  caught  the  tone  of  Amen  Scur- 
lock's  voice,  and  plainly  saw  that  the  old  man  was  get- 
ting vexed;  and  this  was  not  in  accord  with  Fanning' s 
policy  for  that  day. 

Turning  toward  them,  he  said,  *'Walker,  you  seem 
to  be  like  a  porcupine  to-day.  Shove  in  your  stickers 
and  look  pleasant.  You  must  not  offend  Mr.  Scurlock. 
Mr.  Tyson  was  just  discussing  horses  with  me,  and 
after  dinner  we  are  to  have  a  look  at  all  his  stock. 
With  good  company  and  a  royal,  loyal  dinner,  every- 
body should  be  in  a  good  humor.  You  are  a  good  judge 
of  horses,  are  you  not,  Mr.  Scurlock?** 

"Middlin'  fair.  Colonel.  I  know  a  thoroughbred 
from  a  Conestoga,"  was  Daddy  Scurlock's  reply. 

"Well,  come  in  to  dinner,  all  un  ye.  Come  this  way, 
Colonel,"  and  Corneal  Tyson  led  the  way  out  into  a 
long  back  porch,  cool  and  shady,  where  Aunt  Mandy 
had,  with  Hannah's  help,  spread  the  bountiful  board 
that  there  awaited  the  guests. 

Aunt  Mandy  was  seated  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and 
made  a  bow  to  each  guest  as  his  name  was  called. 
Sleepy  Jake  stood  behind  her,  ready  to  pass  the  gourds 
of  cider  as  she  poured  them  from  a  huge  earthenware 
pitcher,  and  to  pass  the  wooden  platters  on  which  was 
served  each  guest's  portion  of  squirrel  stew;  while 
wooden  spoons  of  home  manufacture,  but  daintily 
carved,  conveyed  the  steaming  stew  to  their  ready 
mouths. 

The  cider  was  brisk  and  sparkling,  the  stew  flavored 


FANNING    VISITS    CORNEAL    TYSON      73 

to  the  liking  of  an  epicure^  the  potatoes  baked  brown, 
the  apples  well  roasted  and  spiced,  the  okra,  cucumbers 
and  onions  all  seemed  to  aggravate  already  eager  appe- 
tites; and  during  the  meal  there  was  but  little  talking 
done,  but  all  present  seemed  to  be  getting  into  a  good 
humor  with  themselves  and  their  neighbors,  at  least 
outwardly.  This  was  just  as  wily  Corneal  intended; 
he  knew  that  nothing  put  even  a  savage  nature  so  much 
at  the  mercy  of  good  nature  as  a  good  dinner,  and  he 
felt  sure  that  when  they  arose  to  smoke  their  pipes  on 
the  shady  front  porch  all  would  be  in  a  more  genial 
humor  than  when  the  feast  began.  Fanning  grew  quite 
jolly  as  the  spiced  sweet  potato  pudding  and  foaming 
gourds  of  milk  were  served,  and  proposed  to  drink  the 
health  of  the  only  lady  at  the  table. 

"I  know  you  do  not  love  the  King  nor  our  cause, 
Mrs.  Scurlock;  but  here's  to  your  good  health,  any- 
how, for  you  know  how  to  serve  a  dainty  meal,  and  we 
are  your  debtors  to-day." 

"I  don't  like  yer  much,  Aunt  Mandy;  but,  considerin' 
of  this  dinner,   I  drinks  yer  health,"   said   Jack  Rains. 

Aunt  Mandy  bowed  toward  Colonel  Fanning,  saying, 
"Many  thanks  to  ye.  Colonel.  I  am  pleased  that  the 
dinner  is  to  yer  taste,  but  I  have  no  liking  for  your 
King.  If  he  will  only  let  us  alone,  I  would  like  him 
prime.  As  to  you.  Jack  Rains,  no  woman  has  ever  yet 
thriven  by  your  likes  and  dislikes,  not  even  young 
Jack's  mother;  so  I  shall  not  grieve  for  your  good 
opinion." 

"Now,  Aunt  Mandy,  don't  be  so  hard  on  a  fellow. 
I  used  to  think  you  was  the  finest  woman  on  Brush 
Creek,  but  you  have  turned  ag'in'  us  so  hard,"  said 
Rains. 

"That  ain't  so,  Jack  Rains ;  'tis  you  and  Steve  Walker 


74   THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

and  that  crowd  that  have  turned  on  your  very  neigh- 
bors, and  I  wanted  a  chance  to  tell  Colonel  Fanning 
to  his  face  what  a  sneakin'  thing  it  was  to  shoot  poor 
Charley  Sheering  like  he  had  been  a  dog." 

Fanning's  face  flushed,  while  Aunt  Mandy's  cheeks 
were  aflame  and  her  eyes  almost  flashed  fire.  It  seemed 
as  if  Fanning's  scheme  for  a  jolly  and  profitable  busi- 
ness was  about  to  be  upset;  but  Corneal  Tyson  was 
equal  to  the  emergency. 

Clapping  his  huge  palms  together  with  a  loud  smack, 
he  exploded  into  a  deep,  rumbling  laugh,  saying,  as  he 
caught  his  breath,  "Dad  blame  me,  but  you  are  too 
much  for  any  man.  Aunt  Mandy.  Colonel,  you  had 
better  let  her  be  and  come  along  and  take  a  look  at 
the  bosses ;  she'd  have  her  say  if  the  devil  was  a-standin' 

by." 

"And  why  shouldn't  I,  for  he  is  a-standin'  by,"  said 
Aunt  Mandy,  while  the  men  arose  one  by  one  and  fol- 
lowed Tyson  into  the  front  porch  and  out  of  the  front 
gate  to  a  pasture  not  more  than  three  hundred  yards 
from  the  house. 

On  their  way  to  the  pasture  Amen  Scurlock  drew 
near  to  Fanning  and  said,  "Let  them  pass  on.  I  want 
a  word  with  you.  You  will  please  excuse  Mandy,  Colo- 
nel, for  the  way  she  spoke  at  dinner,  for  when  she 
talks  about  the  shootin'  of  Charley  Sheering  she  gets 
wild  and  don't  care  what  she  says  nor  where  she 
says  it. 

"You  ought  to  try  and  restrain  her,  Mr.  Scurlock, 
or  she  will  bring  you  a  world  of  trouble.  For  your 
sake  I  am  disposed  to  overlook  it;  but,  considering 
how  she  spoke  to  me,  an  officer  of  King  George,  you 
ought  to  make  amends  by  a  handsome  donation  to  the 
King's  cause." 


FANNING    VISITS    CORNEAL    TYSON      15 

"And  so  I  will.  Colonel.  How  much  do  you  need 
at  this  time?     Remember,  gold  is  scarce." 

"In  consideration  of  that/'  said  Fanning,  "I  will 
stint  the  cause  and  only  ask  of  you  one  hundred 
guineas.  Let  me  have  that,  and  help  us  on  occasionally 
hereafter,  and  I  will  overlook  the  disloyalty  of  your 
wife.  The  struggle  will  not  last  long  now,  and  when 
we  succeed  in  crushing  the  rebellion  you  will  be  one 
of  the  rich  and  favored  citizens  of  the  Province." 

"That's  a  mighty  heap  of  gold.  Colonel,  and  taxes 
are  prodigious.     Couldn't  you  make  it  fifty  guineas?" 

"I  could  not  and  do  justice  to  King  and  country, 
Mr.  Scurlock.  Give  me  the  hundred,  and  I  will  not 
call  on  you  again  if  I  can  possibly  avoid  it." 

"It's  a  heavy  dreen.  Colonel,  and  cramps  me  power- 
fully, but  you  shall  have  the  gold,"  and  reaching  back 
into  a  capacious  hip  pocket,  Scurlock  produced  a  buck- 
skin bag,  saying,  "You'll  find  an  even  hundred  guineas 
there.  Colonel;  and  I  hope  the  gold  will  be  used  to 
bring  a  speedy  peace  and  put  an  end  to  all  this  plun- 
derin'  and  bloodshed  on  both  sides.  And  while  we  are 
a-talkin'  on  this  subject.  Colonel,  let  me  tell  ye  you 
were  a  leetle  rough  on  Charley  Sheering,  and  Steve 
Walker  is  watchin'  a  chance  to  take  underhanded  ad- 
vantage of  Luke  Stallings.  I  don't  deny  that  they  is 
both  Whigs  and  good  fighters,  but  they  be  open-handed, 
and  won't   do  a  sneakin'   thing." 

"How  can  you  say  that,  Mr.  Scurlock?  Who  but 
Sheering  or  Stallings  could  have  shot  at  me  that  night 
at  Rains'?" 

"And  weren't  you  at  Rains'  plottin'  ag'in*  their  lives 
that  very  minute?  Besides,  Colonel,  you  don't  know 
'em  like  I  do.  If  Luke  or  Charley  shot  at  ye,  intendin' 
to  kill  ye,  you'd  'a'  been  six   feet  under  ground  now. 


76   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

They  only  gave  ye  a  warnin'  what  to  expect  when  they 
got  ye  out  into  the  open." 

"Well,  what  do  you  expect  me  to  do  for  your  Rebel 
friends,  Scurlock?" 

"Treat  'em  fair,  Colonel;  don't  go  to  thar  homes  and 
burn  and  shoot,  but  fight  'em  like  men;  and,  if  you 
capture  'em,  treat  'em  as  prisoners  should  be  treated. 
Remember,  they  catch  your  boys  sometimes,  and  if  you 
expect  mercy  you  should  show  mercy.  It's  just  dread- 
ful the  way  you  all  are  a-doin'  one  another." 

"I  see  you  know  but  little  about  war,  Mr.  Scurlock." 
"And  I  want  to  know  less.  Colonel;  war  is  the  fires 
of  the  pit  turned  loose." 

"Well,  Mr.  Scurlock,  I  will  try  and  be  no  harder 
on  your  friends  than  I  can  help;  but  you  must  help 
King  George  to  keep  his  own  and  try  to  keep  your 
women  folk  straight.  Come  on  now  and  we  will  see  the 
horses." 

Thus  saying.  Colonel  Fanning  walked  rapidly  for- 
ward until  he  had  overtaken  Corneal  Tyson  and  the 
others,  while  Amen  Scurlock  followed  slowly,  his  hand 
feeling  his  empty  pocket  while  he  murmured,  "Five 
hundred  in  solid  gold  gone.  I  fear  Mandy's  tongue 
will  be  my  ruin  before  this  bloody  war  is  over." 

Corneal  Tyson,  in  honor  of  his  visitors,  wore  a  loose 
linen  sack  over  his  white  homespun  linen  shirt  that 
day,  and  in  the  huge  pockets  he  had  something  like 
a  peck  of  oats  mixed  with  salt.  At  his  call,  three  fine 
brood  mares,  each  with  a  young  foal  by  her  side,  gath- 
ered around  him,  followed  a  little  more  timidly  by 
three  beautiful  blood-bay  geldings. 

As  they  shyly  arched  their  necks  and  watched  the 
strangers,  sometimes  startled  by  some  movement  on  the 
part  of  a  visitor,  they  displayed  such  grace  in  action 


FANNING    VISITS    CORNEAL    TYSON      77 

as  to  call  forth  exclamations  from  every  one  present. 
,  Fanning  seemed  greatly  surprised,  and  exclaimed, 
"Splendid  stock,  Mr.  Tyson;  never  saw  finer.  How 
old  is  that  one?" — pointing  to  the  largest  of  the  geld- 
ings. 

"Five  year  old  this  spring.  Colonel.  That's  'Red 
Buck,'  and  he  can  almost  fly." 

"A  noble  animal,  Mr.  Tyson.  You  could  not  better 
avouch  your  loyalty  to  King  George  than  by  presenting 
Red  Buck  to  his  cause." 

"Red  Buck  is  worth  fifty  guineas.  Colonel." 

"Aye,  I  should  say  so;  but  what  is  fifty  guineas 
when  you  consider  all  that  our  King's  government  has 
enabled  you  to  accumulate,  Mr.  Tyson?  You  should  be 
proud  of  furnishing  a  mount  to  an  officer  of  the  King." 

"And  pray  what  officer  would  it  be,  and  how  would 
the  King  know  or  care  that  old  Corneal  Tyson  had 
given  the  cause  a  horse  worth  fifty  guineas?" 

"Trust  me  for  that,  Mr.  Tyson.  I  should  ride  that 
horse  in  the  King's  service;  and,  my  word  for  it,  this 
act  of  loyalty  shall  reach  King  George's   ear." 

"Thar  are  other  ears  'twould  reach,  too.  Colonel,  and 
I  don't  crave  the  notariety.  I  am  loyal,  and  Brush 
Creek  knows  it;  but  as  good  men  as  I  am  are  Whigs. 
They  respect  me,  I  respect  them.  What  I  do  for  the 
King  I  prefer  to  do  in  my  way.  Step  this  way,  Colo- 
nel Fanning." 

Colonel  Fanning  followed  Tyson  to  one  side,  and 
the  stout  old  man's  big  popped  eyes  blinked  in  a  funny 
way  as  he  said,  "I  am  particular  in  all  I  do.  Colonel, 
and  'tain't  nobody's  business  but  our'n  about  this  boss. 
I  don't  want  it  norated  through  the  country  that  Cor- 
neal Tyson  has  given  his  best  boss  to  Colonel  Fanning. 
You  jest  hand  over  to  me,  whar  those  folks  yonder  can 


78   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

see^  fifty  guineas.  The  hoss  is  your'n,  and  afore  you 
leave  I'll  pass  back  the  gold  to  ye,  and  there's  an  end 
on  it.     See !  the  gold  goes  to  the  King's  cause." 

Fanning  caught  at  Tyson's  cunning  ruse,  for  it  placed 
him  in  the  light  of  a  purchaser  for  a  very  fine  animal, 
and  shielded  his  friend  Tyson  from  the  wrath  that 
would  have  been  kindled  against  him  by  the  more  im- 
petuous of  the  Whigs. 

"I  see  you  are  quite  a  diplomat,  Mr.  Tyson,  and  you 
have  chosen  a  wiser  way  than  I  suggested;"  and  reach- 
ing into  an  inside  pocket.  Fanning  produced  the  iden- 
tical buckskin  bag  he  had  received  from  Amen  Scur- 
lock,  and  proceeded  to  count  out  into  Tyson's  broad 
palms  half  of  the  hundred  shining  guineas. 

Amen  Scurlock,  Steve  Walker,  and  Jack  Rains 
watched  the  horse  trade  with  deep  interest,  although 
they  were  too  far  away  to  get  at  the  particulars. 

*'Bless  your  soul!  they  are  tradin',"  said  Steve. 
"Ketch  old  Corneal  givin'  that  hoss,  no,  sir!" 

*'The  Colonel  must  have  made  a  big  raise  unbe- 
knownst to  us,"  said  Rains.  "See,  he's  countin'  out 
shiners  like  they  was  comin'  from  the  mint." 

Amen  Scurlock  kept  his  own  counsel,  but  he  knew 
well  where  fifty  of  his  hundred  guineas  were  going,  and 
so  silent  and  careful  was  Corneal  Tyson  that  it  was 
many  months  before  Amen  Scurlock  learned  from  him 
the  nature  of  that  "Hoss  Trade." 

Toward  sunset  the  visitors,  refusing  to  spend  the 
night,  took  their  departure,  taking  the  direction  of 
Jack  Rains'  cabin.  Fanning  rode  away  on  Red  Buck; 
while  Steve  Walker,  mounted  on  Fanning's  other  horse, 
led  his  own.  Aunt  Mandy  watched  their  departure  with 
infinite  delight,  singing  to  Hannah  as  a  turn  in  the 
road  hid  them  from  view; 


A  Remarkable  Horse    Trade 


FANNING    VISITS    CORNEAL    TYSON      79 

"Joy  go  with  you,  peace  behind  you. 
And   the   devil   take   you, 
In   his    own    good    time." 

Faiming's  comment  on  the  day  was  made  to  himself; 
he  had  no  confidants. 

"A   fifty  guinea  horse  and  one  hundred  shiners— a 
pretty  good  day's  work/' 


CHAPTER    VIII 

SKIN      QUARTER 

About  a  week  after  the  visit  of  Fanning  and  his  fol- 
lowers, Aunt  Mandy,  who  was  the  moving  spirit  in  her 
household,  began  to  get  ready  for  a  return  to  their 
home,  which  was  known  on  Brush  Creek  as  Skin 
Quarter. 

When  she  first  spoke  of  it,  Corneal  Tyson  uttered  a 
strong  protest.  "Now,  Aunt  Mandy,  you  don't  need 
to  go;  and  I  am  sure  Hannah  needs  yer  good  counsel. 
Skin  Quarter  is  a-standin*  just  whar  you  left  it,  and 
old  Juba  is  makin'  the  niggers  work  all  right." 

"That's  easy  to  say.  Corneal,  but  in  these  times  one 
can't  tell  whether  their  house  is  left  standin'  or  not  if 
they  go  away  and  leave  it;  so  the  old  man  and  me  had 
'bout  as  well  ride  over  and  look  after  Skin  Quarter; 
the  niggers  always  do  better  when  'Ole  Mars'  is  at 
home." 

"I  certainly  hate  to  see  you  go.  Aunt  Mandy;  and  the 
children  and  Charley  will  raise  a  storm,  I  fear,"  said 
Hannah. 

The  storm  was  raised.  Master  Cornelius  and  plump 
little  Sarah  joined  in  a  chorus  of  wails,  and  Charley 
Sheering  expressed  his  deep  regrets,  when  Aunt  Mandy 
climbed  up  on  the  horse  blocks  and  onto  the  pillion 
behind  Daddy  Scurlock,  and  the  old  mare  trotted  off 
down  the  road  out  of  sight. 

"I  shall  miss  the  dear  old  lady,"  said  Charley  Sheer- 

80 


SKIN    QUARTER  81 

ing.  "She  has  spirit  enough  for  two  men,  and  is  the 
bravest  woman  I  ever  saw." 

"She's  brave  unt'well  she's  foolhardy  sometimes/' 
said  Corneal  Tyson.  "T'other  day  she  had  liked  to 
have  flung  all  the  fat  in  the  fire  when  she  sassed  Colo- 
nel Fanning  about  you,  Charley.  I  thought  the  old 
woman  would  set  him  afire." 

"Good!  How  I  should  have  enjoyed  hearing  that. 
Uncle  Neal/'  said  Charley. 

"Fanning  tuck  it  better  than  I  thought  he  would, 
Charley;  but  you  bet  he  made  Dad  Scurlock  pay  for 
all  that  sass." 

"Aunt  Mandy  got  the  satisfaction,  all  the  same,  and 
Fanning  and  all  such  as  he  are  afraid  of  such  a  woman 
as  she  is,  Uncle  Neal." 

"Mebbe  so,  Charley.  Master  Cornelius,  what  do  you 
think  of  Aunt  Mandy  .^"  questioned  Tyson  of  his  little 
namesake. 

"Aunty  Mandy  is  de  bestest  girl  I  know,  Unker  Neal. 
She  makes  hoss  cakes  and  dumplin's  for  me  and  Sarah, 
and  tells  me  how  to  shoot  Tories." 

This  opinion  was  greeted  with  merry  laughter  by  the 
whole  party,  as  they  stood  on  the  porch  where  the 
Scurlocks  had  left  them,  Corneal  Tyson  winding  up 
the  conversation,  as  he  shuffled  off  toward  the  pasture, 
by  saying,  "Dear  Aunt  Mandy!  if  she  ever  misses  get- 
tin'  to  Heaven  'twill  be  because  of  her  hatred  to  the 

T>> 
ones. 

"I'd  like  to  have  her  chance  of  getting  there,  Uncle 
Neal,"  called  out  Charley  Sheering  with  a  merry  laugh. 

"See  if  you  can't  trade  for  it,"  shouted  Tyson  in 
reply.     Corneal  was  always  ready  for  a  trade. 

As  Aunt  Mandy  walked  up  the  path  from  her  gate 
to  the  front  porch  at  Skin  Quarter  she  noticed  that  the 


82   THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

sweet  Williams  and  pinks  were  all  free  of  weeds  and 
there  was  a  tidy  look  about  the  shady  front  yard. 

"Some  one  has  been  here,  old  man,"  said  Aunt 
Mandy,  "and  they've  been  clearin*  up  things  a  bit.  I 
wonder  who  it  can  be.'* 

"Shouldn't  wonder  if  'twas  Luke,  Mandy.  He's  been 
watchin'  around  while  we  were  away  as  sure  as  ye  are 
born,  for  he  told  me  he  was  goin'  to  watch  the  Fanning 
gang  as  long  as  they  was  about  Brush  Creek." 

"Mebbe  'tis  he;  "we  will  soon  see,"  and  Aunt  Mandy 
walked  briskly  up  toward  the  vine-covered  porch. 

"Hello!  who's  that?"  came  from  a  drowsy  voice  in  a 
shady  corner  of  the  porch,  and  Aunt  Mandy  saw  a 
sleepy-looking  man  lying  on  the  bench  Daddy  Scur- 
lock  used  for  taking  his  naps  on  in  hot  weather. 

"Who  do  you  s'pose  it  is,  Luke  Stallings?  If  Fan- 
ning's  gang  had  caught  ye  nappin'  that  way,  you  would 
have  fared  badly." 

"Bless  my  soul!  if  it  isn't  Aunt  Mandy,  and  caught 
me  asleep  on  her  front  porch.  But  I  was  awake  right 
here  all  night,  and  I've  got  a  buckshot  hole  or  two 
through  my  left  arm  where  a  scamp  fired  into  me  last 
night  just  before  I  reached  here,  so  I  don't  feel  very 
well  about  now." 

"Poor  boy!  Where  did  you  come  from,  Luke,  and 
who  do  you  s'pose  could  have  shot  ye?" 

"I've  been  about  here  several  days.  I  know  well 
enough  who  'twas  that  shot  me.  Nobody  else  but  Steve 
Walker.  I  was  coming  along  the  road  afoot,  having 
been  over  to  Joel  Sowell's,  Sorrel  Top  being  put  safely 
away  in  your  stable,  and  three  men  rode  along  past 
me.  One  of  them  halted,  and  I  got  behind  a  big  oak 
tree.  He  called  out,  'Who  goes  there?'  I  made  no 
answer  and  he  fired  away,  then  galloped  on  to  catch 


SKIN    QUARTER  83 

up  with  the  others.  Several  stray  buckshot  struck  my 
arnij  and  it  begins  to  give  me  a  good  deal  of  pain. 
Aunt  Mandy." 

Amen  Scurlock  came  up  just  then,  and,  learning 
Luke's  condition,  soon  dispatched  old  Juba's  son,  Scipio, 
for  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom,  who  resided  about  four  miles 
back  on  the  road  toward  Tyson's. 

"Surely  that  Steve  Walker  ought  to  be  hung,"  said 
Aunt  Mandy  as  she  helped  Luke  to  get  his  bloody  coat 
and  waistcoat  off,  and  bathed  the  bleeding  wounds 
with  a  soft  piece  of  linen  rag.  "There  is  no  end  to 
the  people  he  will  kill  unless  somebody  kills  him.  Get 
into  bed,  my  boy,  and  keep  as  easy  as  ye  can  until  the 
doctor  comes.      I  told  Scip  to  hurry  him  up." 

Meanwhile,  Daddy  Scurlock  had  rummaged  in  the 
bottom  of  the  cupboard,  brought  out  a  little  jar  of 
honey  and  a  stone  jug  containing  about  a  gallon  of  old 
peach  brandy.  Getting  a  clean  gourd,  he  poured  out  a 
stiff  dram  of  the  brandy,  sweetened  it  with  the  honey, 
and  brought  it  to  Luke,  saying,  "I  don't  encourage 
drinkin',  lad,  but  ye  are  losin'  some  blood  and  some 
strength  along  with  it.  Take  a  sip  of  peach  and  honey. 
'Twill  do  ye  good." 

Luke  took  the  draught,  and,  being  in  an  exhausted 
condition,  dozed  off,  while  Daddy  Scurlock  and  Aunt 
Mandy  watched  over  him  until  Dr.  Sidebottom  arrived. 

The  tall  form  of  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom  stooped  a 
little  as  he  entered  the  snug  chamber  in  which  Luke 
lay,  and  his  first  expression  was  characteristic. 

"A\Tiat  devilment  now.  Aunt  Mandy?  "Who's  been 
shootin'   Luke  Stallings  ?" 

"Who  else  but  one  of  that  gang,  doctor?  'Twan't 
anybody  but  Steve  Walker,  and  I  would  go  to  his 
hangin'  as  cheerful  as  I  would  go  to  a  good  breakfast," 


84   THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

"How  was  it^  boy?  Tell  me  all  about  it/'  questioned 
Dr.  Tony  tenderly. 

Luke  told  his  story  and  gave  an  account  of  his  visit 
to  the  home  of  Sowell^  whom  he  found  spending  every 
night  in  a  swamp  on  his  place,  fearing  the  gang  would 
take  him  prisoner  and  spirit  him  away  to  Wilmington. 

"Which  way  were  they  goin'  when  you  met  'em, 
Luke?" 

"They  were  goin'  toward  Sowell's,  and  I  had  just  left 
there.  It  was  somewhere  between  bedtime  and  mid- 
night. I  have  been  lying  on  the  porch  since  I  got  here 
until  Aunt  Mandy  came." 

Dr.  Tony  put  on  his  spectacles,  took  a  probe,  and 
was  soon  "fishin',"  as  he  said,  for  the  buckshot.  In  one 
place  two  or  three  had  entered  so  close  together  as  to 
make  quite  a  large  wound,  and  from  one  cavity  he 
picked  a  slug  that  was  slightly  imbedded  in  the  large 
bone  of  the  arm.  As  he  worked  he  continued  his  com- 
ments. 

"Yes,  that  gang  was  huntin'  poor  Sowell  last  night; 
and  they'll  ketch  him,  send  him  off  a  prisoner,  and  then 
bedevil  his  wife.  Hell's  too  good  for  such  folks.  Aunt 
Mandy;  and  they  shan't  touch  a  hair  of  Roxy  Sowell's 
head.  I  am  going  over  there  first  thing  in  the  mornin' 
and  see  what  they  have  been  up  to." 

"I  am  glad  ye  are,  doctor,  and,  if  theyVe  carried 
Joel  off,  just  fetch  Roxy  over  here.  She  shall  not  lack 
a  protector,  shall  she,  old  man?" 

"No,  indeed,  Mandy;  I  can't  abide  this  harryin', 
persecutin'  way  of  Fanning's;  and  he  is  doin'  more  to 
recruit  Greene's  army  than  all  Greene's  recruitin*  sar- 
geants,"  said  Daddy  Scurlock,  with  a  stern  look  on 
bis  usually  placid  face.     Then  the  old  man  exclaimed 


SKIN    QUARTER  85 

sadly,  "Oh,  for  peace,  peace!  This  burnin',  killin'  is 
just  dreadful.      I   can't  abide  it." 

"Here's  another  slug,"  said  Dr.  Tony,  as  he  brought 
out  an  ugly,  jagged  piece  of  lead  and  proceeded  to 
cleanse  and  staunch  the  wound.  "Dag-gone  Steve 
Walker!  I  would  like  to  fill  him  full  of  lead  and  drap 
him  into  Brush  Creek.  There  are  not  less  than  seven 
buckshot  and  slug  holes  in  Luke's  arm  betwix*  elbow 
and  shoulder,  and  he  meant  to  kill  ye,  lad." 

"I  do  not  doubt  it,  doctor,  and  I  have  about  made  up 
my  mind  deliberately  to  take  first  shot  next  time  and 
send  Steve  on  a  long  journey.  I  hate  to  kill  any  man, 
but  shall  not  give  Steve  another  chance  at  me." 

"I  see  where  you  will  be  doin'  exactly  the  right 
thing,  Luke.  We  have  got  to  kill  out  that  gang.  Amen 
Scurlock,  and  'tain't  worth  while  for  you  nor  any  of 
the  King's  friends  to  be  temporizin'  with  'em.  You 
are  a  devilish  sight  too  good  natured.  Amen,  for  the 
good  of  your  neighbors." 

"It  may  be  so,  Tony,  but  you  know  I  have  held  aloof 
in  the  fight  for  two  reasons,  and  they  both  still  hold 
good.  I  am  anxious  to  keep  the  little  I  have  saved  for 
Polly  Rutherford;  and  I  think  I  can  do  my  poor  neigh- 
bors more  good  by  helpin*  'em  when  the  Tories  burn 
'em  out,  so  I  try  to  have  somethin'  to  help  with.  Sup- 
pose I  was  as  poor  as  they?" 

"I'll  say  this  for  ye.  Amen — you  never  yet  refused 
help  to  a  poor  neighbor,  to  my  knowin';  and  if  all 
Tories  was  like  you  our  Province  would  soon  be  free. 
I  may  have  to  test  that  heart  of  your'n  to-morrow;  and 
now,  as  we  are  gettin'  Luke  into  some  sort  of  shape, 
you  can  give  him  another  dram  of  peach  and  honey  and 
let  him  go  to  sleep." 

"Won't  you  take  a  little  dram  yourself,  Tony?" 


86   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

"You  know  it's  ag'in'  my  principles  to  drink  reg'lar, 
Amen;  a  doctor  has  no  business  to  drink  reg'lar;  but 
this  old  peach  and  honey  wouldn't  hurt  a  baby  in  mod- 
eration^ so  I'll  just  fix  me  a  gourd  of  it,  for  peach  and 
honey  is  an  exception  to  my  general  rules." 

"That  is  exactly  what  old  Parson  Rowe  says,  and  he 
makes  the  exception  pretty  large/'  said  Aunt  Mandy. 
"Sometimes,  just  to  tease  the  old  man,"  she  continued, 
"I  let  him  sit  a  good  while  when  he  calls,  without  even 
a  look  at  the  cupboard  or  a  hint  at  refreshment;  and 
the  parson  will  begin  before  long  to  talk  of  the  Israel- 
ites and  their  journey  to  the  promised  land,  and  when 
he  starts  to  tell  of  the  land  flowin'  with  milk  and  honey 
he  invariably  says,  'peach  and  honey,'  whereupon  I  get 
right  up,  bring  out  the  little  jug  and  honey  jar,  and 
the  old  man  exclaims,  'Why,  Sister  Mandy !  did  I  say 
"peach  and  honey"?  It's  ag'in'  my  rule  to  drink  reg'- 
lar.' But  I  b'lieve  Luke's  asleep.  Come  out  on  the 
porch.  Dr.  Tony,  and  finish  your  dram." 

"  *Tis  cool  and  comfortable  out  here.  Aunt  Mandy; 
and  I  am  sure  the  Gods  whom  the  ancients  worshipped 
never  had  any  nectar  that  tasted  like  this  peach  and 
honey,  or  old  Jove  would  have  been  jolly  drunk  every 
night  of  his  life." 

"Well,  just  take  care  you  don't  do  that  same  to- 
night. Dr.  Tony.  I  always  tell  the  old  man  that 
peach  and  honey  is  the  most  beguilesome  drink  I  ever 
tasted." 

"So  it  is,  Aunt  Mandy,  so  it  is.  Just  this  little 
gourdful  will  make  Tony  Sidebottom  as  rich  as  Corneal 
Tyson  as  long  as  it  lasts." 

"Then  I  should  think  you  would  want  to  keep  it  up, 
Dr.  Tony." 

"No,  I  only  need  an  occasional  sensation.     You  see 


SKIN    QUARTER  87 

the  most  of  my  drinkin'_,  and  nobody  in  all  this  settle- 
ment has  any  peach  and  honey  like  your'n,  Aunt 
Mandy." 

"When  you  feel  rich  do  you  ever  think  about  gettin* 
married,  Dr.  Tony?" 

"Dag-gone  it!  that's  the  only  time  I  ever  do  think 
about  such  a  thing;  and  the  idee  skeers  me  most  to 
death.  Aunt  Mandy,  for  I  am  naturally  'fraid  of 
women." 

Aunt  Mandy  chuckled  merrily,  and  Amen  Scurlock 
shook  so  with  laughter  that  he  came  near  rolling  off 
the  bench  whereon  he  was   reclining. 

"  'Fraid  of  women !  Why,  Dr.  Tony,  they  are  neither 
bears  nor  pant'ers.  I  know  a  splendid  girl  that  would 
suit  you  prime;  she's  good-lookin',  spry,  and,  I  think, 
would  marry." 

"The  devil  you  say!  Excuse  me.  Aunt  Mandy.  You 
see,  I  am  not  altogether  civilized." 

"And  you  never  will  be.  Dr.  Tony,  until  some  clever 
woman  gets  ye.     You  need  a  mighty  change." 

"I  fear  I  shall  stay  semi-civilized,  then;  but  who  is 
the  gal?     Just  name  her." 

"She  is  tall^  has  blue  eyes,  red  cheeks,  red  hair,  good 
teeth,  a  sweet  mouth,  and  her  name  is  Cynthy  Shaw. 
Now,  Cynthy  is  a  prime  girl  every  way.  Dr.  Tony; 
and  as  to  housekeepin',  I  will  put  her  against  Hannah 
Sheering  or  anybody  you  can  name,  for  old  Tim  Shaw's 
house  is  as  sweet  and  clean  as  a  christened  baby.  She 
has  sense,  judgment,  and  taste,  and  any  settled  man  in 
Chatham  County  would  do  the  best  job  of  his  life  to 
get  her  for  a  wife.  What  do  you  think  about  it,  old 
man.f* 

"Cynthy's  all  right,  Mandy;  and  Tony  and  her  would 


88   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

pull  in  double  harness  to  beat  the  best.  Better  try 
your  luck  thar,  Tony." 

"These  is  no  times  to  take  on  extra  responsibilities, 
friends^  although  the  idee  in  itself  is  not  ag'in'  my  feel- 
ings. Miss  Cynthy  is  as  sweet  as  a  honey  shuck,  if 
her  hair  is  red;  and  old  Tim  Shaw  wouldn't  be  a  bad 
daddy-in-law." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it/'  replied  Aunt  Mandy.  "You  see, 
Dr.  Tony,  you  are  a  rank  Whig  like  I  am;  and  old 
Tim  is  just  Tory  enough  and  Whig  enough  to  make  both 
sides  let  him  alone,  while  he  makes  money  out  of  who- 
ever goes  dead." 

"He's  got  a  snug  bit  of  money  hid  away,  too,  Tony," 
said  Amen,  "and  Cynthy  will  get  the  whole  pot  all  in 
her  own  rights." 

"Dag-gone  it !  don't  tell  me  any  more  nor  give  me 
any  more  peach  and  honey,  or  I'll  court  the  girl  afore 
day.  Come,  now,  tell  me  something  about  Polly  Ruth- 
erford.    When  did  you  hear  from  her?" 


CHAPTER    IX 

NEWS  FROM   POLLY  RUTHERFORD 

Being  asked  for  news  of  their  beloved  daughter,  the 
Scurlocks  quickly  informed  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom, 
through  Aunt  Mandy,  that  they  had  not  received  a  word 
of  news  from  the  dear  gal  since  the  letter  Amen  had 
brought. 

"Is  that  so?  Well,  that  reminds  me.  I  was  up  at 
the  crossroads  to-day." 

"You  was !"  chuckled  Aunt  Mandy. 

"Yes,  I  was,  but  I  didn't  see  the  gal,  nor  try  to  see 
her." 

"Nobody  said  you  did,"  said  Amen  with  a  hearty 
laugh  in  his  voice. 

"Well,  dag-gone  it!  you  won't  let  me  tell  what  I 
started  to  say.  As  I  was  a-sayin',  I  was  at  the  cross- 
roads, and  Timothy  Shaw  handed  me  a  letter  for  you. 
Aunt  Mandy,  that  was  left  thar  on  yesterday  by  a 
young  Continental  soldier.  He  said  his  name  was  John 
Paisly,  that  he  was  recruitin'  soldiers  for  General 
Greene,  and  would  try  and  call  at  Skin  Quarter  afore 
he  left  these  parts.  He  had  six  strappin'  young  fel- 
lows with  him,  and  said  he  would  like  to  come  up  with 
Fanning  and  give  him  a  whack." 

"You  forgetful  creature!  Where  is  the  letter,  Dr. 
Tony.?" 

"Inside  my  bootleg.  Aunt  Mandy.     Excuse  me  for 

89 


90   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

not  givin'  it  to  you  afore,  but  I  was  worried  about 
Luke.  Here  'tis/'  and  reaching  down  into  a  pocket 
inside  his  boot,  Dr.  Sidebottom  drew  out  a  packet 
wrapped  in  stout  paper  and  addressed  to  "Mrs.  Amanda 
Scurlock,  Skin  Quarter  Plantation,  South  of  Shaw's 
Crossroads,  Chatham  County,  N.  C." 

"It  is  in  my  blessed  child's  own  writing,"  exclaimed 
Aunt  Mandy  as  she  gazed  at  it  in  the  moonlight,  "and 
I  will  just  light  a  tallow  dip  and  see  what  the  dear 
gal  has  to  say." 

"Hurry  up,  Mandy.  Waitin'  is  poor  business,"  said 
Daddy   Scurlock,  who   was   anxious   to  hear  the  news. 

Aunt  Mandy  found  the  tinder  box  on  the  mantel 
shelf,  and  soon  struck  a  light,  while  her  eager  eyes  were 
not  long  in  reading  out  to  her  interested  hearers  the 
following  letter: 

"Near  Old  Buffalo,  August  5,  1781. 

"My  Dearest  Mammy: 

"I  have  had  part  of  this  letter  written  for  more  than 
two  weeks,  waiting  for  some  chance  to  send  it  to  you, 
and  had  about  given  up  all  hope  of  such  a  chance  when 
the  hand  of  Providence  brought  me  the  opportunity  I 
was  looking  for.  I  went  with  Parson  Caldwell  and 
Aunt  Rachael  to  Buffalo  Meeting  House  last  Sunday, 
as  the  Parson  had  an  appointment  to  preach  there. 
The  crowd  gathered  was  the  largest  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life  at  any  place  of  worship,  and  some  of  the  people 
rode  more  than  fifteen  miles,  and  said  they  would  ride 
forty  miles  any  day  for  the  privilege  of  hearing  such 
a  sermon,  for  there  was  but  one  Dr.  Caldwell  in  the 
whole  Province.  I  shall  never  forget  the  text,  Mammy. 
It  was  from  John's  Gospel,  Chapter  Srd,  16th  Verse: 
'For  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave  His  only  be-    , 


NEWS    FROM    POLLY    RUTHERFORD      91 

gotten  Son^  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him  should  not 
perish^  but  have  everlasting  life.'  Oh^  what  tremen- 
dous power  he  gave  that  little  word  'so';  and  I  never 
understood  before  as  I  did  after  that  sermon  how  great 
was  the  love  of  the  Father  toward  a  sinful  world,  nor 
v/hat  a  gift  He  bestowed  upon  us  when  he  sacrificed  His 
only  Son  to  save  us.  How  beautiful  was  his  invitation 
to  sinners,  as  he  stood  there  before  a  spellbound  audi- 
ence, his  tender,  heart-searching  tones  pleading,  'Who- 
soever believeth  may  come.'  Many  came,  and  there 
were  happy  hearts  and  tearful,  joyful  eyes,  and  tuneful 
voices,  as  the  old  meeting  house  gave  echo  to  a  hymn 
that  I  shall  never  forget,  beginning: 

"Oh,   for   a  thousand   tongues  to  sing 
My   dear   Redeemer's    praise; 
The    glories    of   my    God    and    King, 
The   triumphs    of    His    grace." 

"When  the  benediction  was  said,  and  we  went  out 
into  the  grove  to  eat  our  dinner,  I  thought  the  people 
would  never  let  the  beloved  parson  eat  a  bite.  They 
flocked  around  to  shake  hands,  to  thank  him  for  the 
precious  sermon,  and  to  invite  him  to  dine.  He  was 
so  sweet  and  gentle  to  everybody,  but  said  he  must 
dine  with  his  family,  as  Aunt  Rachael  had  brought  a 
large  hamper  containing  a  bountiful  supply;  and  he 
invited  so  many  to  partake,  and  so  many  accepted,  that 
the  fragments  that  remained  were  none  too  abundant 
for  the  servants.  Tell  daddy  that  one  of  the  guests 
who  dined  with  us  that  day  was  dear  old  Mrs.  Paisly, 
with  whom  we  spent  that  last  night  on  the  road.  She 
remembered  me,  gave  me  a  sweet  kiss,  and  then  intro- 
duced me  to  her  son,  Colonel  John  Paisly,  who  had 
unexpectedly  returned  from  Greene's  army  to  gather 
up  recruits. 


92   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

"The  Colonel  is  a  very  handsome  man,  with  dark 
brown  eyes  and  hair,  and  a  ruddy,  clean-shaven  face; 
is  very  soldierly  in  his  bearing,  and  has  almost  as 
gentle  manners  as  Parson  Caldwell.  He  seemed  quite 
pleased  to  meet  me.  Mammy,  and — well,  if  I  had  never 
seen  a  certain  other  dark-eyed  gentleman  who  lives  in 
Chatham,  and  if  Colonel  Paisly  were  very  persistent 
in  his  attentions,  I  am  not  just  now  prepared  to  say 
what  would  be  the  end  of  it.  What  a  lot  of  'ifs'! 
Colonel  Paisly  told  me  as  soon  as  he  learned  that  I  was 
from  Chatham,  that  he  would  soon  be  going  in  that 
direction,  and  offered  to  render  me  any  service  he  could. 
It  is  he  that  is  the  bearer  of  this  letter;  and  if  he  calls 
at  Skin  Quarter  put  him  in  my  room  and  give  him  the 
best  reception  you  can.  I  know  daddy  will  gladly 
entertain  him  for  the  sake  of  dear  old  lady  Ruth  Paisly. 
He  is  highly  educated  and  refined,  and  I  know  you  will 
think  him  a  fine  gentleman.  Mammy. 

"Parson  Caldwell's  place  has  been  overrun  and 
greatly  abused  by  the  British  and  Tories  this  past 
spring;  and,  just  think  of  it.  Mammy,  the  enemy  de- 
stroyed his  fine  collection  of  books,  the  dear  books  he 
had  gathered  with  so  much  care  and  loved  so  well. 
Still,  he  is  patient,  and  lives  so  beautiful  a  Christian 
life  it  is  a  pleasure  to  be  under  his  roof. 

"Do  send  me  a  long  letter  by  Colonel  Paisly,  and  give 
my  love  to  all  who  love  me. 

"Your  dutiful  daughter, 

"Polly  Rutherford." 

"What  a  scholar  Polly  Rutherford  is,  to  be  sure," 
exclaimed  Dr.  Tony.  "You  and  Amen  ought  to  be 
powerful  proud  of  that  gal." 


NEWS    FROM    POLLY    RUTHERFORD      93 

"And  so  we  are,  Tony/'  replied  Amen.  "She  is  a 
gal  that  may  take  her  time,  and  pick  and  choose  from 
high  quality  folk^  and  that  is  just  what  I  have  been 
tellin*  Mandy." 

"I  s'pose  you  have  heard  talk  about  Luke  and  Polly 
Rutherford,  hain't  ye,  Dr.  Tony.?"  said  Aunt  Mandy; 
"doctors  hear  most  everything  that's  a-goin'.'* 

"I  have  heard  that  Luke  was  just  a-lickin'  the  dust 
in  Polly  Rutherford's  tracks;  but  I  didn't  know  as  to 
his  chances,  and  was  afeard  he  was  barkin'  up  the 
wrong  tree." 

"No!  No!  I  think  he  has  treed  his  game,  Tony," 
said  Amen.  "Of  course  women  are  liable  to  change 
up  their  minds;  but,  when  Polly  Rutherford  left  home 
I  think  she  had  about  made  up  her  mind  to  marry 
Luke." 

"You  don't  say,  Amen.  Well,  you  haven't  axed  me 
about  him,  but  I  will  venture  to  say  that  Luke  Stallings, 
for  his  chances,  is  the  most  dependable  young  man  I 
know;  and,  if  the  war  was  over  and  he  could  settle 
down  to  business,  would  take  the  best  of  care  of  Polly 
and  make  her  a  fine  husband." 

"I  believe  that,  too,  Tony,  and  I  hain't  anything  in 
the  world  ag'in'  Luke;  but  Polly  Rutherford  has  had 
better  chances  than  he,  and  she  could  strike  high  in 
pickin'  a  husband." 

"That's  so.  Amen." 

"Yes,  and  while  that's  so,  strikin'  high  don't  always 
get  the  best  husband,"  said  Aunt  Mandy.  "What  a 
woman  wants — that  is  a  true  woman — is  a  man  she  can 
always  depend  upon.  I  have  never  seen  this  Colonel 
Paisly,  but  I  hope  Polly  Rutherford  won't  get  tangled 
up  in  a  love  affair  with  him  and  lose  as  good  a  man  as 
Luke  Stallings,  unless  he  should  prove  to  be  all  he  ought 


94   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

to  be.  If  he  knows— ^and  she  ought  to  tell  him — that 
she  is  promised  to  Luke,  if  he  is  a  high-toned  gentle- 
man he  will  take  himself  off." 

"Well,  when  the  pot  biles  over  it  will  soon  settle 
itself;  and,  as  I  wish  to  start  over  to  Joel  Sowell's  by 
light  tomorrow  morning,  if  you  will  give  me  a  shake 
down.  Aunt  Mandy,  I  will  go  to  sleep." 

"Excuse  me  for  keepin'  you  up  so  late.  Dr.  Tony,** 
said  Aunt  Mandy;  "just  go  into  Luke's  room,  and  there 
is  a  couch  all  ready  for  you." 

Soon  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom  was  in  the  land  of 
dreams,  and  he  dreamed  of  courting  Cynthy  Shaw,  and 
as  she  said  "Yes,"  he  kissed  her  so  emphatically  upon 
her  red  lips  that  the  smacking  sound  he  made  came 
very  near  waking  him. 

Before  dawn  Aunt  Mandy  was  astir,  and  soon  had  a 
hot  breakfast  ready  for  the  doctor;  and  she  was  de- 
lighted to  find  that  Luke  had  slept  well  and  was,  ac- 
cording to  the  doctor,  doing  as  well  as  a  wounded  game- 
cock could.  The  ride  to  Joel  Sowell's  was  a  little  less 
than  three  miles;  and  Amen  Scurlock  had  determined 
that  he  would  make  the  visit  with  the  doctor,  and  held 
himself  in  readiness  to  do  what  he  could  for  his  neigh- 
bor, should  he  need  friendly  aid.  As  they  drew  near 
the  Sowell  place,  just  about  sunrise,  they  were  dis- 
tressed to  see  several  oat  stacks  and  the  barn  and  corn- 
crib  on  fire,  the  flames  reaching  out  toward  the  picket 
fence  that  surrounded  the  dwelling,  and  threatening  to 
destroy  that,  as  well. 

"My  God!  look  at  that,  Amen!  Them  devils  are 
burning  poor  Joel  out  of  house  and  home";  and,  putting 
spurs  to  old  Blaze,  Dr.  Sidebottom,  followed  by  Amen, 
soon  reached  the  scene  of  destruction. 

Steve  Walker  and  three  other  members  of  Fanning's 


NEWS    FROM    POLLY    RUTHERFORD      95 

troop  were  busy  touching  a  pine  torch  here  and  there 
to  help  on  the  conflagration;  while  poor  Roxy  Sowell, 
with  a  tender  little  babe  of  four  months  on  her  lap,  was 
sitting  on  the  steps  leading  into  her  cottage_,  weeping 
as  if  her  heart  would  break;  while  her  husband,  his 
hands  pinioned  behind  him,  was  tied  fast  to  a  tree  in 
sight  of  her.  The  clatter  of  hoofs  and  the  sudden  ar- 
rival of  Dr.  Sidebottom  and  Amen  Scurlock  caused  the 
vandals  to  pause,  and  Sidebottom  was  not  long  in  speak- 
ing his  mind. 

"Steve  Walker,  what's  all  this  devilment  you  are 
kicking  up,  for.'*  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
Joel.?" 

"We  are  makin'  rebellion  odious.  Dr.  Tony;  do  you 
want  a  taste.'*  And  we  propose  to  take  Joel  Sowell  to 
Wilmington." 

"I  just  want  to  tell  ye,  Steve  Walker,  that  this  kind 
er  business  has  got  to  be  stopped;  you  are  gettin'  odious 
very  fast;  and,  as  to  takin'  Joel  away  from  the  support 
of  his  little  family,  you'll  not  do  it." 

"And  pray,  who  will  keep  us  from  it,  sir?  We  get 
our  orders  from  Colonel  Fanning." 

Looking  down  the  road,  Dr.  Sidebottom  saw  coming 
at  a  lively  gallop  seven  horsemen,  and  he  knew  that 
help    was   not    far   off. 

"You  don't  deserve  anything  but  death,  you  nor  none 
of  your  gang;  but  I  will  give  you  a  chance  to  git  away," 
said  Sidebottom.  "Yonder  comes  a  troop  that  will  make 
buzzard  feed  out  of  you  in  ten  minutes,  if  you  stay 
here." 

"Who  are  they,  and  did  you  bring  'em  here.  Dr. 
Tony?     If  you  did,  thar  will  be  an  account  ag'in'  you." 

"I  don't  know  them;  I  only  know  they  are  Conti- 
nentals, and  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  their  being  here  J 


96   THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

but  I  thank  God  they  have  come.  Remember,  Steve 
Walker,  that  Tony  Sidebottom  is  able  to  settle  any  ac- 
count you  or  Fanning  have  ag'in'  him.  Jest  stay  here 
a  few  minutes  longer  and  you  will  find  out  more  than 
you  want  to  know." 

Walker  watched  for  a  moment,  with  keen  interest, 
the  rapid  approach  of  the  strangers;  then  called  to  his 
men,  "Take  your  prisoner,  mount,  and  git  as  fast  as  you 
can. 

Amen  Scurlock  here  spoke  very  decidedly.  "You 
mount  and  git,  but  you  don't  take  Joel  Sowell  away 
from  his  family.  If  he  has  done  anything  ag'in'  the 
laws  of  the  Province,  I  will  see  that  he  answers.  Be 
in  a  hurry !  Go !  for  we  will  have  to  fight  this  fire  you 
have  started,  or  Sowell's  property  will  all  be 
destroyed." 

Swearing  vengeance  upon  Scurlock  and  Dr.  Side- 
bottom,  Steve  Walker  and  his  men  made  a  hasty  re- 
treat just  as  Colonel  Paisly  and  his  men  reached  the 
scene. 

"WTiat  is  all  this.^"  questioned  the  Colonel  as  he  saw 
the  burning  barn  and  out-buildings,  the  weeping  woman 
and  babe,  and  Joel  Sowell  just  being  released  from  the 
tree. 

"The  devil's  to  pay,"  said  Dr.  Tony.  "That  was 
part  of  Fannin's  gang  that  rode  away  just  now,  and 
they  were  burnin'  up  Joel  Sowell's  property,  and  were 
about  to  carry  him  away  prisoner  and  leave  his  wife 
and  babe  to  starve.  Amen  Scurlock  and  I  got  wind 
of  it  and  rode  over  to  put  a  stop  to  it.  Lend  a  hand 
here  with  your  men.  Colonel  ^Vhat-you-call-'em,  and  let 
us  put  out  this  fire." 

"My  name  is  Paisly,"  replied  the  Colonel;  "I  should 
have  liked  getting  here  a  little  sooner,  but — get  to  work. 


NEWS    FROM    POLLY    RUTHERFORD      97 

boys;  knock  off  a  few  pickets  where  the  fence  is  catch- 
ing, and  try  to  stop  the  burning  of  that  stable  if  you 
can.  I  should  like,  too,  to  cross  swords  with  this  Fan- 
ning/' he  added,  turning  to  the  doctor.  "But  we  will 
talk  more  about  it  when  we  put  out  the  fire." 

"That's  business,"  said  Sidebottom,  as  he  and  Scur- 
lock  went  to  work  flinging  water  on  the  burning  barn 
and  stable,  while  the  Colonel  and  his  men  worked  until 
the  smoke  and  soot  streaked  their  faces  as  the  perspira- 
tion dripped  from  them. 

Much  earnest  work  saved  the  stable,  but  the  barn  and 
forage  proved  a  total  loss.  The  house  was  rescued  none 
too  soon,  for  had  their  friends  reached  them  a  few 
moments  later  the  work  of  destruction  would  have  been 
complete,  and  Joel  Sowell  would  have  been  a  prisoner, 
his  wife  and  child  homeless. 

"Now  that  the  scrimmage  is  over,"  said  Doctor  Tony, 
"we  can  take  time  to  find  out  one  another.  My  name. 
Colonel  Paisly,  is  Sidebottom,  Tony  Sidebottom;  and 
this  is  Amen  Scurlock;  and  our  would-be  prisoner  is 
Joel  Sowell;  and  this  lady  is  Mrs.  Sowell." 

The  Colonel's  men  had  all  gone  to  look  after  their 
horses,  and  he  was  left  with  the  group  we  have 
mentioned. 

"I  am  glad,  indeed,  to  meet  all  of  you,"  said  the 
Colonel  with  great  courtesy.  "It  seems  to  me  that  I 
brought  a  letter  for  a  Mrs.  Scurlock  living  somewhere 
hereabout.  Perhaps,  sir,  you  are  related  to  the  young 
lady  staying  at  Dr.  Caldwell's  over  in  Guilford?" 

"She  is  my  daughter,"  replied  Amen.  "We  got  the 
letter  on  yesterday,  and  I  thank  you  for  your  kindness 
in  bringing  it.  My  wife  wishes,  also,  to  thank  you,  so 
you  must  go  home  with  me." 

"We  have  been  in  so  much  trouble,  gentlemen,  that 


98   THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

we  have  both  forgotten  our  manners/*  said  sweet  Roxy 
Sowell. 

"Indeed  we  have/*  said  her  husband.  "Do  come  in 
and  let  us  get  you  some  fresh  water  so  that  you  can  get 
the  soot  and  smoke  off;  we  can  never  forget  your  kind- 
ness.** 

The  noggins  on  the  porch  shelf  were  soon  filled  with 
cool,  fresh  water;  and  each  one  of  the  visitors  found  a 
free  application  of  water,  and  a  good  rubbing  with  a 
flax  towel,  very  cleansing  and  refreshing. 

"Don't  talk  to  me  about  kindness,  Joel,*'  said  Dr. 
Tony  as  he  sponged  off  his  face.  "I  wouldn't  give  a 
dag-gone  for  a  man  that  would  stand  by  and  see  a  neigh- 
bor harried  and  persecuted,  without  doin'  something  to 
help  him.  Scurlock  and  I  had  made  up  our  minds  to 
lick  Walker's  whole  crowd  rather  than  see  you  taken 
away,  but  Colonel  Paisly  here  saved  us  the  job.'* 

"And  now,"  said  Amen,  "Mandy  says  you,  Joel,  Roxy 
and  the  baby  must  come  over  to  our  house  and  stay. 
I've  got  a  hidin'  place  at  Skin  Quarter  where  Walker 
will  never  find  jou,  and  Roxy  and  baby  can  stay  until 
the  war  is  over." 

"You  are  certainly  like  a  father  to  us.  Daddy  Scur- 
lock, and  God  in  his  goodness  has  answered  a  question 
I  had  been  asking  myself  ever  since  the  battle  of  Guil- 
ford Court  House,  and  that  was,  'What  would  become 
of  Roxy  and  baby  if  I  joined  Greene's  army?'  " 

Colonel  Paisly  listened  to  this  familiar  talk  between 
the  neighbors  and  seemed  much  interested,  for  he  had 
a  glimpse  of  a  warm-hearted,  noble  old  man  who  prac- 
ticed the  Golden  Rule,  and  lived,  even  in  those  days  of 
trial,  according  to  Gospel  light;  and  that  old  man  was 
Polly  Rutherford's  father. 

It  was  soon  decided  that  Colonel  Paisly  should  leave 


NEWS    FROM    POLLY    RUTHERFORD      99 

his  men  quartered  at  Joel  Sowell's  place  (Joel  giving 
them  lodging  in  his  house) ^  and  return  with  Amen  Scur- 
lock  to  Skin  Quarter  for  a  visit.  Joel,  Roxy  and  baby 
were  also  to  go;  and  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom,  who  had  a 
number  of  visits  to  make,  promised  to  get  there  in  time 
for  supper  and  lodging,  saying,  as  he  paced  away  on 
Old  Blaze,  "I  shan't  go  near  the  cross-roads  to-day.'* 


CHAPTER  X 

COLONEL    PAISLY    MEETS    LUKE    STALLINGS 

Aunt  Mandy  had  been  busy  all  the  forenoon  in  tidy- 
ing up  her  home  that  always  seemed  to  her  visiting 
friends  spotless  and  speckless,  occasionally  pausing  in 
her  work  to  peep  into  Luke's  room  and  to  ask,  "Are  ye 
needin'  anything,  Luke?" 

To  one  of  these  inquiries  Luke  answered,  "I  am  as 
comfortable  as  I  can  be,  Aunt  Mandy,  but  I  do  need 
something." 

"And  what  is  it,  my  boy?" 

"I  need  Polly  Rutherford,  Aunt  Mandy,  if  ever  a 
man  needed  a  helpmeet." 

"Ho !  so  Polly  Rutherford's  mammy  isn't  a  good 
enough  nurse  for  ye,  you  saucy  fellow." 

"Don't  misjudge  me,  Aunt  Mandy;  you  are  a  great 
deal  better  nurse  than  Polly  Rutherford  knows  how 
to  be,  but  while  I  am  wounded  and  temporarily  laid 
by,  I  feel  as  I  never  did  before,  that  I  cannot  go  on 
living  without  Polly  Rutherford." 

"Luke,  you  are  a  good  boy,  and  I  appreciate  your 
love  for  our  gal,  and  I  know  she  is  worth  the  tender- 
est  love  of  the  best  man  that  ever  stepped.  But,  did 
ye  ever  think  that,  after  all,  you  might  meet  with  dis- 
appointment; that  possibly  Polly  Rutherford  might  see 
someone  else  that  would  draw  out  from  her  heart  a 
deeper  love  than  she  now  feels  for  you  ?" 

100 


COLONEL   PAISLY   MEETS   STALLINGS     101 

*'0h^  Aunt  Mandy!  have  you  heard  anything  that 
leads  you  to  talk  that  way?" 

"Well,  not  exactly,  child,  and  still,  a  letter  I  had 
from  Polly  Rutherford  on  yesterday  evening  set  me 
a-thinking  along  in  that  direction." 

"Tell  me  all  about  it.  Aunt  Mandy;  I  love  Polly 
Rutherford  better  than  my  own  life,  and  will  never 
stand  in  the  way  of  her  happiness.  If  she  loves  some- 
one else  better  than  she  does  Luke  Stallings,  who  has 
loved  her  since  she  was  a  little  child,  I  will  go  away, 
carry  my  misery  with  me,  and  leave  her  to  be  happy 
with  her  new  love." 

"You  take  it  a  little  too  serious,  L«ke.  I  will  let  you 
read  Polly's  letter,  and  then  you  can  draw  out  her 
meaning  just  as  well  as  I  can;"  and  Aunt  Mandy 
handed  Luke  the  letter. 

It  was  no  trouble  to  read  Polly's  letter,  for  it  was 
as  plain  as  print,  as  Aunt  Mandy  said,  and  Luke  read 
every  word  with  deepest  interest;  then,  folding  it  up, 
he  lay  silently  thinking  so  long  that  Aunt  Mandy 
aroused  him  by  a  question. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  it,  Luke?" 

"It  is  not  altogether  as  bad  as  I  expected.  Aunt 
Mandy.  Polly  Rutherford  is  gay,  likes  the  flatteries 
of  young  men,  and  is  so  young,  so  winsome,  and  has 
seen  so  little  of  the  world  in  which  she  lives,  we  must 
expect  her  to  enjoy  everything,  even  the  serious  atten- 
tions of  attractive  men.  I  am  going  to  give  her  a 
chance.  Aunt  Mandy,  and  if  she  wants  Colonel  John 
Paisly,  she  certainly  don't  want  poor  Luke  Stallings, 
and  there's  an  end  of  it.  When  do  you  expect  this 
Colonel  Paisly?" 

"He  is  liable  to  come  at  any  hour;  he  was  at  Shaw's 
Cross-Roads  yesterday.     But  you  rest  easy,  Luke;  you 


102  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

haven't  lost  your  girl  yet,  and  up  to  now  and  from 
now  on,  I  am  your  friend.  So  rest  easy  and  take  a 
nap." 

"Bless  your  dear  old  heart !  I  love  you,  Aunt  Mandy, 
like  a  mother,  for  you  know,  as  an  orphan,  I  never  knew 
a  mother's  love;  and  in  all  the  future  I  am  going  to 
try  and  be  worthy  of  your  confidence  and  affection,  and 
will  never  stand  in  the  way  of  your  daughter's  true 
happiness." 

Just  then  Aunt  Mandy  heard  her  old  man  calling 
Scipio  to  take  the  horses,  and  excusing  herself,  she  was 
on  the  porch  ready  to  receive  her  visitors  by  the  time 
they  could  walk  from  the  horse-blocks  up  to  the  shady 
entrance. 

"I  certainly  am  glad  to  see  ye,  Roxy;  and  you,  too, 
Joel;  and  the  baby,  bless  its  dear  little  heart,"  ex- 
claimed Aunt  Mandy,  as  she  kissed  Roxy  and  baby. 
"It  is  a  beauty;  just  the  image  of  you,  Roxy;  there's 
where  it  gets  its  beauty,  Joel." 

"Mandy,"  said  Daddy  Scurlock,  "stop  kissin'  that 
baby  long  enough  to  shake  hands  with  Colonel  Paisly. 
Colonel,  this  is  my  wife." 

"Oh,  excuse  me,  Colonel  Paisly;  I  am  proud  to  see 
you  and  to  welcome  you  to  Skin  Quarter.  Come  in, 
all,  and  have  seats  here  or  in  the  sitting-room,  as  suits 
you  best.  Roxy,  you  carry  baby  into  my  room,  where 
the  little  darling  can  be  quiet.  Old  man,  you  know 
where  to  put  Colonel  Paisly." 

Colonel  Paisly's  face  was  lighted  by  a  bright  smile, 
and  as  he  cordially  grasped  Aunt  Mandy's  hand,  said, 
"I  thank  you,  madam,  for  your  hearty  welcome,  and 
already  feel  at  home." 

She  felt  that  she  was  meeting  a  superior  man,  who 
might  prove  a  serious  rival  to  Luke. 


COLONEL   PAISLY  MEETS  STALLINGS    103 

Scipio  having  stabled  the  horses,  soon  supplied  the 
vessels  on  the  porch  shelf  with  pure,  cool  water;  and 
each  of  the  recently  arrived  enjoyed  and  felt  all  the 
better  for  another  ablution.  Meanwhile,  Aunt  Mandy 
had  sought  her  own  chamber,  where  she  found  Roxy 
hushing  her  babe  to  sleep,  having  made  a  cradle  out  of 
Daddy  Scurlock's  big  arm-chair  and  two  huge  feather 
pillows. 

"Well!"  exclaimed  Aunt  Mandy,  "it's  amazin'  funny, 
our  havin'  a  baby  in  this  house,  Roxy.  I  must  rum- 
mage the  garret  and  fetch  out  Polly  Rutherford's 
cradle.  Here,  Scipio,  go  into  the  garret  and  fetch  the 
cradle.  Now,  sit  down,  child — baby  is  asleep — and  tell 
me  all  about  your  troubles,  for  I  know  you've  had  'em." 

"Aunt  Mandy,  I  never  spent  such  a  night  as  last 
night,  and  hope  never  to  see  such  another.  Steve 
Walker  and  three  other  vandals  reached  our  home  a 
little  after  midnight;  Joel  was  just  leaving  the  house 
as  they  got  there,  and  they  caught  and  tied  him,  after 
striking  him  over  the  head  with  the  butt  of  a  gun.  Then 
they  set  fire  to  our  barn,  stable,  corn-crib,  and  every 
stack  of  forage  we  had,  and  were  just  getting  ready 
to  fire  the  dwelling  when  Daddy  Scurlock  and  Dr.  Tony 
Sidebottom  rode  up.  There  were  sharp  words  between 
them,  and  I  was  expecting  hard  blows,  when,  to  our 
great  relief.  Colonel  Paisly  and  six  well-armed  soldiers 
were  seen  coming.  Steve  Walker  was  about  to  carry 
Joel  off  as  a  prisoner,  when  Daddy  Scurlock  spoke  up 
and  told  them  they  should  not  take  Joel  away  from 
me;  and  the  cowards,  cursing  and  swearing  vengeance, 
mounted  their  horses  and  fled.  Dr.  Tony,  Daddy  Scur- 
lock, the  Colonel  and  the  soldiers,  all  went  to  work  and 
soon  subdued  the  fire;  but  our  barn  and  all  our  forage 


104  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

was  burned  to  ashes,  and  I  feel  sure  the  villains  will 
yet  destroy  our  home." 

"Roxy  Sowell,  I  sometimes  wish  I  was  a  man,  and 
when  I  hear  of  such  outrages  as  this,  I  wonder  that 
every  biped  that  is  a  man  don't  get  his  gun  and  go  to 
fighting.  My  old  man  is  not  strong  enough  to  stand 
soldiering,  for  he  has  the  rheumatiz;  but  he  is  fast 
gettin'  cured  of  his  sympathy  with  King  George,  I  can 
tell  ye ;  and  old  Corneal  Tyson  is  pretty  well  converted, 
too,  since  Fanning  shot  Charley  Sheering.  By  the  way, 
Roxy,  how  do  you  like  this  Colonel  Paisly?'* 

*'He  is  a  very  proper  gentleman,  Aunt  Mandy,  and 
his  manners  are  beautiful.  I  like  the  way  he  treats  all 
women — so  courtly,  so  refined  in  his  speech,  I  love  to 
hear  him  talk.  Joel  is  going  to  join  his  troop,  I  think, 
and  follow  this  war  to  the  end;  and  he  is  likely  to  get 
Luke  Stallings  and  Charley  Sheering — perhaps  a  few 
more  from  Brush  Creek." 

"The  more  the  merrier,  Roxy.  I  would  like  to  give 
a  parting  dinner  to  the  whole  troop,  with  not  less  than 
twenty  soldiers  from  Brush  Creek  in  it.  Now  make 
yourself  at  home,  honey;  I  must  go  and  look  after  poor 
Luke  Stallings." 

"What's  the  matter  with  Luke,  Aunt  Mandy?" 

*'Why,  didn't  the  old  man  tell  ye  that  the  same  gang 
that  burned  your  barn  shot  Luke  last  night.''" 

"No,  indeed;  hadn't  heard  a  word  of  it;  Luke  only 
left  our  house  about  eleven  o'clock." 

"He  was  on  his  way  back  to  Skin  Quarter  when  he 
passed  the  gang;  they  fired  into  him  and  he  has  seven 
wounds  in  his  left  arm  between  elbow  and  shoulder. 
Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom  says  none  of  them  are  serious 
and  he  will  soon  be  all  right";  and  with  this  parting 


COLONEL   PAISLY   MEETS   STALLINGS     105 

remark  Aunt  Mandy  passed   out  and   entered   Luke's 
room. 

"So  your  visitors  have  come,  Aunt  Mandy;  I  must 
make  haste  and  get  out  of  this,  for  I  don't  want  to  be 
in  the  way  when  your  house  is  so  full." 

"Now,  Luke,  ain't  you  ashamed  of  yourself  to  talk 
that  way."*  I  am  not  crowded  one  bit,  there's  plenty  of 
room,  and  you  know  you  are  always  welcome  here. 
What  would  Polly  Rutherford  say  if  she  had  heard 
youi* 

"I  don't  know;  perhaps  my  absence  would  be  very 
agreeable  with  Colonel  Paisly  here;  girls  like  a  change, 
Aunt  Mandy." 

"Well,  Luke,  if  you  don't  stand  up  for  your  own  [ 
rights  I  can't  help  ye.  I  would  hold  my  head  just  as 
high  as  Colonel  Paisly,  and  think  my  presence  just  as 
welcome  as  his.  Girls  like  a  man  that  holds  himself 
just  as  high  as  the  best,  and  makes  'em  look  up  to 
him;  at  least,  that's  Polly  Rutherford's  way.  Cheer  up, 
boy;  I  want  you  to  meet  this  Colonel  Paisly  and  let 
him  see  that  you  are  a  true  gentleman  and  a  born  sol-  1 
dier,  if  you  have  only  had  plantation  chances." 

"How  long  will  the  Colonel  be  here.  Aunt  Mandy?" 

"Only  a  few  days,  Luke;  he  is  gathering  up  recruits 
for  Greene's  army,  and  does  not  stay  long  in  one  place. 
Oh !  I  must  tell  ye  about  what  Steve  Walker  and  his 
gang  did  after  they  shot  ye  last  night.  They  went  over 
to  Joel  Sowell's,  caught  him  and  tied  him,  then  set  fire 
to  his  stable,  barn,  and  forage  stacks.  They  were  just 
about  to  fire  the  dwelling  when  my  old  man  and  Dr. 
Tony  got  there.  While  Dr.  Tony  was  having  words 
with  Steve  Walker,  who  should  come  in  sight  but  Colonel 
Paisly  and  six  troopers,  and  the  way  those  cowardly 
rascals  scampered  to  their  horses  and  got  away  makes 


106  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

my  old  man  laugh  every  time  he  tells  about  it.  All 
hands  went  to  work  and  put  out  the  fire^  and  my  old 
man  brought  the  Colonel^  Joel,  Roxy  and  baby  home 
with  him,  and  here  they  are.  Joel  lost  all  his  forage 
and  his  barn." 

"What  became  of  Dr.  Tony,  Aunt  Mandy?" 

"He  is  on  his  rounds;  had  to  see  a  lot  of  chronic 
cases  that  doctors  keep  for  dull  times;  but  he  will  be 
here  to  supper  and  to  spend  the  night." 

"I  am  going  to  tell  Dr.  Tony,  Aunt  Mandy,  that  he 
must  heal  up  these  wounds  of  mine  and  get  me  in  fight- 
ing shape.  There  is  too  much  deviltry  being  done  by 
our  enemies  for  me  to  be  laid  up  now.  I  think  I  shall 
get  a  transfer  from  Roper,  and  join  Colonel  Paisley's 
troop;  I  have  a  good  mount,  and  I  must  go  regularly 
into  the  field." 

"You  are  right,  Luke;  and  while  I  hate  to  see  you 
go  away,  for  I  feel  that  you  are  a  great  protection  to 
us  here,  I  want  you  to  defend  your  country,  and  to  show 
both  friends  and  enemies  what  kind  of  grit  you  are 
made  of.  Stay  quiet  now,  boy,  and  get  another  little 
nap;  after  dinner  I  will  bring  Colonel  Paisly  in  to  see 

you. 

Aunt  Mandy  knew  how  to  entertain  hospitably;  and 
her  old  cook,  Anachy,  had  a  reputation  all  through 
Brush  Creek  neighborhood  as  the  best  cake  maker  and 
the  most  skillful  roaster  of  meats  in  all  the  country- 
side. Her  skill  was  not  lacking  on  this  occasion,  and 
Colonel  Paisley  was  amazed  at  the  spread  that  awaited 
him,  when  dinner  was  announced.  The  chicken  pie 
was  just  peppery  enough;  the  old  ham  was  crusted  over 
with  crumbs  and  sugar,  and  browned  on  the  surface, 
with  its  juicy  flavor  afforded  a  wonderful  stimulus 
to  appetite.     A  pair  of  ducks,  plump  and  yellow,  were 


COLONEL   PAISLY  MEETS  STALLINGS    107 

garnished  with  a  savory  dressing,  odorous  of  herbs;  the 
sweet  potatoes  were  baked  in  a  huge  earthenware  dish; 
while  a  companion  dish  contained  a  pudding  made  of 
tender  young  corn.  Sundry  pickles  and  preserves  were 
at  hand,  and  rich  golden  honey,  while  wooden  platters 
were  filled  with  delicious  corn-pone  and  wheaten  hoe- 
cakes.  To  the  soldier  such  a  feast  had  been,  until  his 
recent  visit  home,  a  memory  only;  and  Colonel  Paisly 
enjoyed  not  only  the  dainties  that  ministered  to  a  ready 
appetite,  but  the  cheerful  conversation  that  seemed  to 
be  a  natural  sequence. 

"You  were  speaking  to  me  just  now,  Mrs.  Scurlock,** 
said  Paisly,  as  he  helped  himself  to  another  hoe-cake, 
"about  the  young  man  those  dastards  shot  last  night; 
I  really  hope  it  is  nothing  serious,  and  I  would  like  very 
much  to  see  him." 

"The  wounds  are  painful,  Colonel,  but  Dr.  Tony 
thinks  that  Luke  will  soon  recover.  He  is  young, 
strong,  has  no  bad  habits,  and  he  has  plenty  of  pluck, 
too;  so  everything  is  in  his  favor.  The  country  could 
ill  afford  to  lose  such  a  young  man  as  Luke  Stallings, 
Colonel.  When  dinner  is  over  I  will  introduce  you  to 
him." 

"Thanks,  madam;  I  believe  all  you  say.  That  he 
stands  so  high  in  the  good  opinion  of  Mr.  Scurlock  and 
of  you,  madam,  is  a  guarantee  that  he  is  a  true  knight 
that  will  yet  achieve  success  as  soldier  and  citizen." 

"He  had  been  on  an  errand  of  pure  friendship  when 
he  was  shot.  Colonel,"  said  Mrs.  Sowell.  "Aunt  Mandy 
and  Uncle  Scurlock  had  been  away  from  home  a  week 
or  more,  and  Luke  came  over  here  on  a  scout  to  find 
out  what  Fanning's  gang  were  doing  and  to  look  after 
their  place.  He  would  spend  his  days  over  here  at  Skin 
Quarter,  then  go  around   at   night  and  gather  all  the 


108  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

information  he  could.  Almost  every  night  he  would 
come  to  our  house  and  stay  awhile,  tell  us  the  news,  and 
then  disappear.  It  was  on  his  way  from  our  house  to 
Skin  Quarter  that  he  met  Steve  Walker  and  the  gang 
that  tried  to  burn  us  out,  and  Walker  fired  at  him 
and  disabled  his  left  arm.  When  Luke  gets  well  he 
will  make  some  Tory  pay  heavily  for  all  he  is  suffer- 
ing now." 

*'But  for  the  urgent  need  that  General  Greene  has 
for  full  ranks  and  an  efficient  army  now,"  said  Colonel 
Paisly,  "I  would  obtain  a  detail  for  the  special  duty, 
come  back  home,  raise  a  regiment,  and  break  up  Fan- 
ning's  roost.  He  is  doing  great  damage  to  our  cause, 
and  we  are  only  fighting  him  in  detail,  instead  of  giv- 
ing one  crushing  blow." 

"Luke  says,"  replied  Aunt  Mandy,  "that  Fanning  has 
been  so  bold  and  successful  that  he  suspects  he  is  going 
to  undertake  something  desperate  bad  before  long;  and 
the  fear  of  that  is  what  has  kept  him  from  joinin'  the 
reg'lar  army.  He  is  watchin'  them,  and  a  lot  of  Whigs 
are  doing  the  same." 

"I  have  heard  a  good  deal  of  this  Fanning;  he  must 
be  a  desperate  character,  indeed.  How  many  men  does 
he  command,  Mr.  Scurlock?" 

"His  command  varies  in  size.  Colonel,  anywhere 
from  twenty  to  forty  men;  and  they  do  their  bloody 
work  in  bands  of  from  five  to  twenty-five  men ;  he  often 
has  two  companies  out  in  different  directions  at  the 
same  time.  They  are  lawless,  sir,  and  I  have  no  sym- 
pathy with  lawless  deeds.  I  have  been  a  Royalist, 
Colonel,  but  Fanning  has  about  cured  me." 

"Thank  the  Lord!"  exclaimed  Aunt  Mandy.  "The 
old  man  is  converted  at  last,  but  I  am  afraid  if  it  gets 
norated  through  Chatham  and  Randolph,  those  wretches 


COLONEL   PAISLY   MEETS   STALLINGS    109 

will  come  and  burn  our  home  over  our  heads.  Just  go 
on  like  you  have  been,  old  man ;  you  have  been  all  along 
as  good  a  Whig  as  I  want  to  see." 

"I  shall  have  to  be  very  careful,  Colonel,  or  I  shall 
not  have  a  home  over  my  head  in  a  week's  time;  but, 
in  a  quiet  way,  Men-Repent  Scurlock  can  and  will  help 
you;  I  will  help  you,  and  Fanning  will  be  none  the 
wiser,  smart  as  he  is." 

Thus  passed  the  dinner  hour;  and  Daddy  Scurlock 
and  Joel  Sowell  were  sitting  with  the  Colonel  on  the 
porch,  smoking  their  cob  pipes,  when  Aunt  Mandy  came 
out,  saying,  "If  you  will  all  put  aside  those  pipes,  you 
may  come  in  and  see  Luke;  he  is  awake  now." 

The  pipes  were  laid  away  on  a  shelf  for  future 
reference,  and  the  ex-smokers  followed  Aunt  Mandy 
into  Luke's  room. 

"Hello,  Luke,  old  boy ;  sorry  to  see  you  laid  up,"  was 
Joel's  salutation.  "The  rascals  had  liked  to  have 
clubbed  my  brains  out  with  a  musket  last  night,  too; 
my  head  feels  sore  enough,  I  can  tell  ye." 

Joel  then  stepped  aside  and  Scurlock  said,  "Luke, 
this  is  Colonel  Paisly  come  to  see  ye." 

Luke  extended  over  the  white  counterpane  his  right 
hand,  which  was  tenderly  grasped  in  both  hands  by 
Colonel  Paisly,  and  his  cheerful  voice  uttered  a  warm 
acknowledgment  of  the  introduction. 

"I  am  glad  to  know  you,  Mr.  Stallings;  but  sorry, 
indeed,  to  find  you  sore  wounded,  and  truly  hope  you 
will  soon  be  well  again.  'Tis  hard  for  youth  and  am- 
bition to  lie  in  bed." 

"  'Tis  the  fate  of  war.  Colonel,"  said  Luke  with  a 
faint  smile.  "I  should  have  minded  it  little  more  than 
a  mosquito  bite  but  for  the  loss  of  blood.  I  must  have 
been   bleeding    for    at   least    twelve   hours   when    Aunt 


no  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

Mandy  found  me  on  her  porch.  But  for  her  and  Dr. 
Tony  I  should  soon  have  had  a  case  of  inflammation, 
possibly  blood-poison." 

"You  are  in  splendid  hands,  Mr.  Stallings,  and  I 
expect  a  marvelous  recovery.  I  would  ask  no  better 
quarters  should  the  fate  of  war  bring  me  such  wounds," 
said  the  Colonel  with  a  bright  smile. 

"I  have  been  wounded  at  a  bad  time.  Colonel;  I  am 
sure  that  Fanning  has  some  desperate  stroke  in  con- 
templation, and  I  should  have  found  out  all  about  it 
to-day  or  to-morrow.  Now  I  am  unable  to  move  around, 
and  the  scoundrel  has  one  Whig  less  to  watch  him. 
Charley  Sheering,  too,  is  nearly  as  bad  off  as  I  am; 
he  would  be  at  their  heels  if  he  were  able  to  ride." 

"It  is  too  bad,  Mr.  Stallings ;  suppose  you  and  I  hold 
a  council  of  war,  and,  with  the  information  you  have, 
I  and  my  men  may  be  able  to  do  something." 

"We  shall  have  to  take  Joel  Sowell  into  our  coun- 
cil. Colonel,  for  he  knows  every  hog-path  in  these  parts, 
and  I  cannot  possibly  go  with  you." 

"You  can  count  on  me,"  said  Joel. 

"Come,  old  man,"  said  Aunt  Mandy,  "we  are  not 
wanted  in  here  just  now.  I  will  hear  it  all  soon, enough, 
and — well,  you  had  better  not  know  too  much."  So  the 
old  couple  made  their  exit  and  joined  Roxy  and  baby 
on  the  porch. 

"You  can  now  state  your  surmises,  Mr.  Stallings," 
said  Colonel  Paisly. 

"I  will  do  so  in  few  words.  Colonel.  Fanning  has 
for  two  days  been  gathering  his  men;  and  each  man  is 
required  to  be  well-mounted,  well-armed,  and  to  bring 
three  days'  rations.  I  learned  this  from  a  source  that 
has  never  failed  to  be  accurate;  Tim  Shaw  told  me. 
Fanning  is  evidently  expecting  quite  a  large  force  of 


An   Interview  Between    Two  Lovers 


COLONEL   PAISLY  MEETS   STALLINGS     111 

Tories  from  the  Scotch  settlements,  for  Shaw  also 
hinted  that.  By  this  time  I  expect  they  are  all  on  the 
road,  and  my  surmise  is,  that  they  have  gone  in  the 
direction  of  Hillsboro." 

"Would  Fanning  dare  try  to  capture  the  Governor, 
Mr.  Stallings.?" 

"Fanning  would  attempt  to  capture  the  devil  if  he 
thought  he  had  anything  like  a  fighting  chance. 
Colonel;  you  don't  know  the  man." 

"Suppose,"  said  Joel,  "we  get  your  men  and  do  a 
little  scouting  to-night.  Colonel.  I  can  take  you  around 
by  Jack  Rains'  cabin  and  then  up  to  the  cross-roads, 
then  around  into  the  road  leading  towards  the  Orange 
line." 

"Good !  if  you  feel  strong  enough  after  your  rough 
handling  last  night,  Sowell,  I  shall  be  glad  to  have 
you.  We  will  get  supper,  mount,  and  ride  over  to  your 
place  first." 

Sowell  then  withdrew  to  acquaint  his  wife  with  his 
intention  to  go  with  Colonel  Paisly  on  the  adventurous 
night  ride,  leaving  the  Colonel  alone  with  Luke. 

"Aunt  Mandy  tells  me  that  you  have  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  her  daughter.  Miss  Polly  Rutherford, 
Colonel,"  said  Luke,  glancing  shyly  up  to  see  the  effect 
of  his  words. 

"Yes,  Mr.  Stallings,  I  consider  it  a  great  privilege  to 
say  that  I  have  met  Miss  Polly  Rutherford  several 
times,  and  hope  to  meet  her  again  on  my  return  to 
Guilford." 

"We  are  quite  proud  of  the  young  lady,  Colonel;  she 
is  really  the  belle  of  Chatham,  and  is  much  more  than 
beautiful." 

"All  you  say,  Mr.  Stallings,  is  true,  and  you  might 


112  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

pass  higher  encomiums,  finding  me  ready  to  echo  every 
word.     How  long  have  you  known  the  young  lady?" 

*'Since  she  was  a  little  golden-haired  lass  of  four 
years,  Colonel.  As  a  child  she  was  a  womanly  little 
one;  and  as  a  young  lady  she  is  as  guileless  as  a  child." 

"Well  said/  Mr.  Stallings;  I  see  that  Miss  Polly 
Rutherford  occupies  no  second  place  in,  at  least,  your 
esteem." 

"You  might  say  my  heart.  Colonel,  for  I  am  not 
ashamed  to  confess  anywhere  that  I  love  her  with  a 
devotion  that  can  only  cease  with  my  life,  yea,  on  into 
eternity  it  must  go;  and  I  have  so  loved  her  from  her 
childhood." 

"Such  devotion,  Mr.  Stallings,  deserves  reciproca- 
tion. It  is  not  my  business  yet  to  lift  the  sacred  veil 
over  her  heart — did  I  only  know  how  far  she  is  com- 
mitted to  you  or  to  any  one  else,  it  would  make  a  great 
change  in  my  purposes,  friend,  for  she  is  the  only 
woman  I  ever  saw  that  I  desired  from  the  first  day  I 
knew  her,  to  win." 

"So  we  are  rivals.  Colonel !  and  are  strangely  com- 
municative to  each  other,  I  must  say,  on  so  short  an  ac- 
quaintance. Having  spoken  so  plainly,  I  will  go 
further  and  say  that  Miss  Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock 
was,  when  she  left  home,  my  promised  bride.  I  escorted 
her  to  Guilford  and  had  intended  to  accompany  her 
father  when  he  should  go  to  fetch  her  home.  Since 
you  have  intimated  so  candidly  your  attachment  to  the 
young  lady,  my  purposes  are  changed.  I  shall  get  a 
transfer  to  your  troop  and  go  with  you  to  the  front. 
We  will  stand  together  in  the  thick  of  battle.  Should 
both  of  us  be  spared  to  return  to  our  homes,  I  shall 
take  no  advantage  of  Polly  Rutherford's  promise;  she 
shall  be  left  free  to  choose  between  us." 


COLONEL   PAISLY   MEETS   STALLINGS     113 

Luke's  voice  trembled  as  he  uttered  this  resolve,  and 
his  right  hand  twitched  with  the  nervous  strain  that 
was  sorely  trying  him.  In  a  moment  he  felt  his  hand 
clasped  between  the  strong,  warm  palms  of  Colonel 
Paisly;  and  tears  came  into  his  dark  eyes  as  he  heard 
the  following  words: 

"My  dear  Mr.  Stallings,  we  were  strangers  but  can 
never  be  so  again.  I  honor  your  manly  words,  but  you 
shall  never  make  such  a  sacrifice  for  me.  Let  what  I 
have  told  you  as  to  what  I  might  do,  be  as  if  unspoken. 
I  have  not  yet  breathed  one  word  of  love  to  your 
affianced,  and  would  not  now  that  I  know  all.  I  shall 
be  delighted  to  have  you  in  my  troop,  and  will  do  all 
I  can  for  your  promotion.  God  bless  you  and  grant 
you  all  the  happiness  you  crave." 

In  another  moment  the  Colonel  had  joined  the  com- 
pany on  the  porch.  A  little  later  Aunt  Mandy,  enter- 
ing Luke's  room,  found  this  brave  young  man  in  tears. 

"Hi!  what  is  the  matter,  my  boy?"  was  her  eager 
question. 

"I  am  overcome  by  the  self-renunciation  of  the 
noblest-hearted  man  I  ever  met,  Aunt  Mandy.  Colonel 
Paisly  is  a  Christian  gentleman,  and,  in  many  respects 
I  feel  that  he  could  make  Polly  Rutherford  happier 
than  I  could;  but  he  cannot  love  her  more  devotedly." 

"Did  you  both  talk  about  her,  boy?" 

"Yes;  the  Colonel  understands  exactlv  the  relation 
between  us,  and  he  is  crushing  his  love  for  her  out  of 
his  heart  for  my  sake." 

"You  don't  say,  Luke !  Well,  he  is  a  true  nobleman, 
one  of  the  knights  you  read  about.    God  bless  him!" 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  CAPTURE  OF  GOVERNOR  BURKE 

Leaving  Luke  Stallings  in  the  motherly  hands  of 
Aunt  Mandy,  and  Charley  Sheering  to  a  rapid  re- 
covery under  the  tender  nursing  of  Hannah,  we  will 
spend  a  little  time  in  the  Tory  camp  at  Dry  Fork;  fol- 
low Colonel  Hector  McNeill  and  his  Scotch  Loyalists 
into  Chatham  and  to  their  union  with  Colonel  Fan- 
ning's  troop  on  Deep  River,  and  from  thence  to  the 
capture  of  Governor  Burke. 

In  the  ranks  of  Colonel  McNeill's  six  hundred  or 
more,  there  was  found  some  of  the  best  blood  in  the 
Scotch  settlements,  and  they  were  quite  as  much  in 
earnest  in  their  espousal  of  the  cause  of  King  George 
as  were  many  of  their  neighbors  in  championing  Amer- 
ican Independence.  The  cause  he  espouses  has  ever 
been  dear  to  the  heart  of  a  Scotchman,  and  the  divided 
households  found  in  the  Scotch  region  remind  the  writer 
of  a  toast  given  by  an  old  Scottish  Laird  at  a  public 
dinner.  Being  urged  to  give  a  toast  to  the  Scotchman, 
he  at  first  declined;  and  on  being  urged,  replied,  "Weel, 
if  I  mon,  I  mon;  here's  to  a  Scotchman;  may  he  ever 
be  richt,  for,  if  he's  wrang,  he's  wrang  to  a'  eternity." 

Right  or  wrong,  a  Scotchman  has  tenacity.  King 
George  had  no  stronger  friends  than  the  Loyal  Scotch 
of  the  Cape  Fear  Country;  and  the  cause  of  freedom 
had  no  more  fearless  adherents  than  their  brothers  who 

114 


CAPTURE    OF    GOVERNOR    BURKE      115 

nursed  at  the  same  breast  and  had  been  reared  beside 
the  same  Ingle  nook. 

Colonel  Hector  McNeill  had  been  an  officer  in  the 
British  service,  and  had  sworn  allegiance  to  King 
George.  It  was  therefore  his  pride  to  keep  an  oath, 
and  to  defend  what  he  considered  Crown  Rights.  In 
camp  he  was  considerate  of  his  men,  always  ready  to 
rebuke  those  officers  who  would  make  a  soldier's  life 
more  onerous  than  necessity  required,  and  therefore  he 
was  greatly  beloved.  Early  September  nights  were  a 
little  cool,  and  around  Colonel  McNeill's  camp  fire 
might  be  seen  grouped  at  night  officers  and  subalterns, 
all  ready  listeners  to  the  Colonel's  reminiscences  as  a 
soldier  of  the  King. 

"We  mon  make  this  the  last  campaign,  lads,"  said 
the  old  Colonel.  "We  mon  play  our  broadswords  like 
true  Highlanders  and  crush  this  rebellion.  Mony  o' 
the  men  that  be  in  camp  this  nicht  stood  foreainst  the 
King  at  CuUoden  Moor.  I  shall  never  forget  that 
bloody  day;  ye  then  took  oaths,  lads,  when  the  clans- 
men could  no  longer  f echt,  to  stand  by  King  and  Crown ; 
and  we  mon  do  it." 

"  'Tis  a  bold  stroke.  Colonel,"  said  young  Duncan 
Ray,  "if  I  hear  aright  our  intentions." 

"Aye;  an'  'tis  the  bold  strokes,  laddie,  that  win. 
That  Fanning,  I  ha'  no  liking  for  the  mon,  but  he  ha' 
the  dash  of  a  tartar  when  the  battle  rages." 

"And  Fanning  is  to  join  us.  Colonel.^" 

"Aye,  lad." 

"Our  men  say  that  Fanning  is  only  a  cattle  lifter, 
a  horse  thief,  and  plunderer.  Colonel,  and  they  would 
not  let  him  lead  them  in  fight." 

"They  ha'  no  need  to,  Duncan,  for  I  am  senior  and 
&11  will  bide  my  orders." 


116  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"Let  the  emprise  go  forward,  then.  Colonel;  the  more 
desperate  it  is,  the  harder  shall  we  fight." 

"It  never  fears  me  as  to  what  our  folk  will  do,  Dun- 
can, when  the  pibroch  sounds.  We  shall  capture  the 
head  of  the  rebellion,  then  the  body  will  die." 

"Some  political  bodies  live  a  long  time  without  any- 
head.  Colonel,  but  the  capture  of  Governor  Burke  will 
put  heart  into  the  King's  cause  and  prove  a  hard  blow 
to  the  Rebels;  let  us  strike  that  blow  quickly." 

"That  will  be  done,  Duncan;  marching  orders  are 
issued.     We  mon  soon  meet  Fanning." 

When  Colonel  McNeill  and  his  command  reached 
Deep  River,  they  were  guided  to  a  camping  ground 
by  the  smoke  of  Fanning's  camp  fires,  and  their  com- 
ing was  greeted  by  the  cheery  notes  of  Fanning's 
bugler. 

Not  long  after  the  frugal  evening  meal  was  served, 
Colonel  Fanning,  accompanied  by  Jack  Rains,  Steve 
Walker,  and  Edwards  (all  leading  men  in  his  troop), 
rode  over  to  Colonel  McNeill's  encampment  and  re- 
ceived cordial  greeting. 

"Glad  to  see  ye,  Colonel  Fanning;  dismount  all,  and 
take  seats  on  ma'  log,"  exclaimed  the  old  Colonel. 

Fanning  took  the  offered  hand  of  the  Colonel,  and 
then  introduced  his  men. 

"Will  no'  ye  have  a  sup  wi'  us,  Fanning?  We  be 
barely  done;  can  find  ye  a  bannock." 

"We  have  had  supper.  Colonel;  I  wanted  a  long 
chat  with  ye,  and  you  may  talk  freely  before  my  men." 

"Weel,  there's  no'  much  to  tell,  but  a  deal  o'  sharp 
work  before  us,  Fanning,  gin  we  catch  Burke  an'  his 
nest  o'  rebels.  I  see  ye  be  weel-mounted ;  that  gelding 
ye  were  riding  has  bluid." 

"Truly  so.  Colonel;  Red  Buck  should  have  remained 


CAPTURE    OF    GOVERNOR    BURKE      117 

entire  to  perpetuate  the  stock;  his  sire  was  brought 
iiom  England  by  old  Corneal  Tyson,  one  of  our  loyal 
friends." 

"I  would  no'  mind  havin'  some  o'  the  stock,  for  speed 
and  bottom  are  everything  to  us  in  this  venture." 

"My  men  are  all  well-mounted,  Colonel  McNeill; 
that  I  insist  on,  for  our  movements  are  quick,  and  the 
success  of  a  charge  often  depends  upon  the  vim  and 
dash  of  a  horse,  as  well  as  rider." 

"That's  all  true.  Fanning;  and  now  to  beesness.  We 
are  going  to  take  the  Governor,  feicht  or  no  feicht; 
let's  establish  the  order  o'  our  proceedin'." 

"I  know  the  roads  to  Hillsboro,  and,  by  hard  riding 
to-morrow,  and  remaining  quietly  sheltered  in  a  wood 
not  many  miles  from  the  town,  during  the  early  part  of 
to-morrow  night,  we  will  give  our  horses  rest  and  can 
enter  and  surprise  our  quarry  before  dawn  to-morrow 
night's  morning." 

"That's  no'  bad.  Fanning.  An'  ye  know  the  roads 
well;  ye  mon  lead  the  way,  an'  we  will  a'  be  in  at  the 
catch.     This  blow  mon  break  the  head  o'  the  rebellion." 

"This  rebellion  has  as  many  heads  as  old  Parson 
Rowe's  sermons.  Colonel;  I  know  I  have  a  name  for 
cruelty,  and  the  Whigs  frighten  their  children  into 
obedience  with  a  threat  of  Fanning,  but  nothing  but 
harsh  measures  will  ever  quell  this  rebellion.  I  arrest 
every  active  Whig  I  can;  the  most  notorious  ones  never 
get  to  Wilmington  nor  do  they  ever  get  back  home." 

"Ye  ha'  a  bad  name  for  cruelty  in  our  pairts.  Fan- 
ning; and  mony  o'  our  men  distrust  ye.  Let  us  be  just 
and  courteous  even  to  the  enemies  o'  King  George,  and 
prove  to  the  Whigs  we  war  not  for  plunder.  Remember, 
Fanning,  it's   hang  for  hang,   burn  for  burn,  and  yer 


118  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

policy  would  make  it  a  war  to  extermination,  and  a 
question  as  to  which  could  survive  longest." 

"You  have  too  big  and  soft  a  heart.  Colonel  McNeill, 
for  a  soldier,  brave  as  ye  are.  We  are  in  this  expedition 
to  win,  and  I  believe  you  will  do  a  soldier's  duty.  Good 
night;  your  orders  are  march  just  before  daylight;  we 
shall  lead  the  column";  and  Fanning,  mounting  Red 
Buck,  and  followed  by  his  men,  rode  away. 

The  following  evening  found  the  whole  Tory  force 
within  a  few  miles  of  Hillsboro;  the  order  of  approach 
was  arranged,  and  the  command  went  into  camp  for  a 
few  hours'  rest.  Silently,  several  hours  before  dawn, 
each  man  saddled  up,  mounted,  and  the  force  moved 
rapidly  along  the  dark  clay  road  with  scarce  a  word 
between  man  and  man.  Fanning  entered  the  old  town 
by  one  road,  and  McNeill's  force  by  another.  Videttes 
were  thrown  out,  a  strong  guard  was  posted  at  each 
cross-way,  each  road  leading  out  of  the  town  was 
guarded,  and  a  dash  was  then  made  to  secure  Governor 
Burke,  his  staff,  and  all  known  leaders  among  the 
Whigs  that  could  be  found. 

Their  coming  had  been  conducted  with  so  much 
rapidity  and  secrecy  it  proved  not  only  a  great  surprise 
but  a  great  success.  Governor  Burke,  not  dreaming  of 
the  near  proximity  of  so  formidable  a  force,  was  unpre- 
pared for  resistance,  and  awoke  from  a  night  of  sweet 
rest  to  find  his  quaint  old  village  capital  invaded;  his 
dwelling  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  troopers,  heavily 
armed;  his  staff  and  other  officials  were  in  similar 
plight,  and  there  was  nothing  left  but  to  surrender  and 
submit  to  an  enforced  captivity.  Fanning's  men  had 
a  spirited  encounter  with  the  guard  who  held  in  charge 
the  jail,  wherein  were  confined  a  few  Tory  prisoners. 
The   guard,    seeing   that   the   Governor    and    all   their 


CAPTURE    OF    GOVERNOR    BURKE      119 

leaders  were  captives,  attempted  a  ruse  by  placing  in 
their  hats  a  bunch  of  oat-straw,  and  then  attempting  to 
ride  through  the  Tory  guards,  thus  making  their  escape. 
Fanning's  quick  eye  perceived  the  difference  between 
buck  tails  (the  badge  of  the  Tories)  and  oat-straw; 
and,  pronouncing  them  rebels,  began  cutting  right  and 
left  with  his  sabre,  and  but  few  of  them  escaped 
captivity. 

Never  before  or  since  has  old  Hillsboro  been  the 
scene  of  such  revel  as  followed  the  capture  of  Gov- 
ernor Burke.  Many  of  the  Tories,  elated  at  their  suc- 
cess, defied  all  authority;  and  a  scene  of  riot  and  plun- 
der ensued.  Stores  were  broken  open,  liquor  flowed 
freely,  and  debauchery  and  robbery  were  the  order  of 
at  least  one  day  in  Hillsboro.  Many  of  the  marauders 
became  too  drunk  to  obey  orders  or  to  follow  the  re- 
treating columns  of  McNeill  and  Fanning,  and  were 
held  captives  by  an   indignant  and  outraged  people. 

The  capture  of  Governor  Burke  and  his  officials  was 
sad  news,  and  seemed  to  travel  with  the  speed  of  light- 
ning from  farm-house  to  farm-house,  until  it  had 
reached  the  ears  of  many  brave,  strong  men,  who 
speedily  resolved  to  attempt  his  rescue  and  endeavor  to 
wipe  out  the  stain  of  his  capture  by  a  signal  victory. 

While  this  was  not  accomplished,  a  noble  fight  was 
made,  and  our  next  chapter  will  give  a  brief  glimpse 
at  the  Battle  of  Cane  Creek. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  BATTLE  OF  CANE  CREEK 

"Yonder  comes  old  Blaze^  and  Dr.  Tony  rides  like 
he  bore  tidings/'  said  Amen  Scurlock,  as  he  sat  on  his 
porch  talking  with  Luke  Stallings  and  Joel  Sowell  a 
few  days  after  the  arrival  of  Colonel  Paisly  in  the 
neighborhood.  The  recruiting  had  gone  on  bravely 
since  his  arrival_,  and  the  Colonel  had  added  ten  good 
men  to  his  company,  which  now  included  Charley 
Sheering,  Luke  Stallings  and  Joel  Sowell.  The  scout- 
ing Paisly  had  done  had  revealed  the  fact  that  Fan- 
ning's  whole  command  had  really  left  Brush  Creek 
neighborhood;  and  he  was  now  satisfied  that  they  would 
be  heard  from  in  some  daring  attempt.  He  had  gone 
over  to  Corneal  Tyson's  this  very  afternoon  to  find  out 
how  soon  Charley  Sheering  would  be  ready  for  service; 
and  Charley  was  at  that  moment  on  the  way  back  with 
him.  He  was  anxious  to  return  to  Guilford,  finish  re- 
cruiting his  command,  and  to  join  General  Greene's 
army  as  speedily  as  possible.  Luke  was  quite  well 
enough  for  light  service;  and,  although  his  arm  was 
still  bandaged,  he  was  anxious  to  see  active  duty  in  the 
regular  army. 

"Dr.  Tony  does  seem  in  a  hurry,  Daddy,"  said  Luke, 
as  all  three  of  the  watchers  on  the  porch  now  walked 
down  toward  the  horse-blocks  to  meet  him. 

120 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CANE    CREEK        121 

"Glad  to  see  ye.  Old  Sides,  what's  the  news?"  said 
Scurlock. 

Dr.  Tony  hitched  Old  Blaze,  hurriedly  slung  his 
saddlebags  over  his  left  arm,  and  turning  toward  them, 
said,  "Dag-goned  bad  news  !  sartainly  the  devil  is  loose." 

"What's  the  matter?"  exclaimed  Scurlock,  while  Luke 
and  Joel  looked  inquiringly  at  the  doctor. 

"I  thought  that  wolf  Fanning  was  plottin'  mischief. 
He  and  those  devilish  Scotch  Tories  hain't  done  a  thing 
but  captured  Governor  Burke,  his  staff,  and  a  whole 
caboodle  more.  Dag-gone  me  if  I  know  what  our  peo- 
ple are  a-doin'  anyhow;  let  a  lot  of  marauders  ride 
right  across  our  country  and  break  up  the  government." 

Amen  Scurlock  was  amazed  at  the  news,  and  Luke 
and  Joel  were  mad  enough  to  forget  the  good  advice 
Father  Rowe  had  so  often  given  them  about  swearing. 

At  last  Scurlock  exclaimed,  "Are  you  sure  it's  true, 
Tony?" 

"True!  I  wish  it  wasn't,  for  it's  going  to  prolong 
the  fight  in  our  section,  and  cost  a  good  many  lives, 
too." 

"  'Tis  no  more  than  I  expected ;  that  is,  that  they 
would  try  to  take  Governor  Burke;  but  I  hope  they 
had  a  fight  for  it.  And  oh,  that  I  could  have  been 
there!"  was  Luke's  earnest  utterance. 

"Tim  Shaw  told  me,"  said  Tony,  "that  thar  wa'n't  a 
quart  of  blood  spilt  in  the  whole  affair.  They  just 
marched  in,  got  their  men,  looted  the  town,  leavin'  some 
chronic  drunks,  and  then  marched  out  again." 

"They  should  not  be  allowed  to  get  down  to  Raft 
Swamp,  their  safe  harbor,  without  a  fight.  Once  they 
get  there  'tis  easy  for  them  to  get  their  prisoners  to 
Wilmington,"  said  Luke.     "Surely  there  are  true  Whigs 


1S2  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

enough  in  Chatham  and  Orange  Counties  to  thrash 
Fanning's  gang  and  the  Scotch^  too." 

"Yonder  comes  Colonel  Paisly  and  Charley  Sheer- 
ing; let's  see  what  they  say  about  it/'  said  Joel. 

As  Colonel  Paisly  and  Charley  Sheering  rode  rapidly 
up  to  the  group  as  they  still  stood  in  the  shade  by  the 
horse-blocks,  Luke  said: 

"My  surmise  has  proved  true,  Colonel;  Fanning's 
gang  and  the  Scotch  have  captured  Governor  Burke, 
looted  the  old  town  of  Hillsboro,  and  are  in  full  retreat 
for  Wilmington.'* 

"Do  any  of  you  know  the  country  roads  along  which 
they  are  likely  to  pass,  Luke.''" 

"We  do.  Colonel,"  answered  Luke.  "They  will  be 
making  a  bee-line  for  Raft  Swamp,  and  will  take  all 
the  by-roads  they  can." 

"Their  nighest  road,"  said  Joel,  "would  take  them 
from  Hillsboro  due  south,  and  they  would  pass  about 
five  miles  to  west  of  Pittsboro;  but  they  will  no  doubt 
cross  Haw  River  and  come  down  the  west  bank,  which 
would  fling  them  a  little  west  of  a  south'ard  course." 

"If  we  were  to  go  almost  due  north  from  here.  Colonel, 
we  would,  in  less  than  a  forty-mile  ride,  strike  the  head 
of  their  column,"  said  Charley.  "What  good  could  less 
than  twenty  men  do,  boys?  I  do  not  suppose  they 
have  less  than  seven  hundred  men.  One  thing  we  can  do, 
and  that  is,  make  a  circuit  around  through  the  lower 
edge  of  Hawfields,  and  join  whatever  force  is  mustered 
against  them;  it  is  a  hard  ride  but  worth  trying.  We 
must  mount  and  away  as  soon  as  Aunt  Mandy  can  give 
us  supper." 

There  was  hurry  and  bustle  at  Skin  Quarter,  for  it 
was  now  nearly  sunset,  and  Aunt  Mandy  knew  that  the 
Colonel,  Luke  and  all  the  rest  should  be  on  the  road 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CANE    CREEK        123 

by  the  time  the  stars  began  to  shine  in  place  of  the 
waning  daylight. 

"Hurry  up^,  Anachy;  have  plenty  of  corn-pone  and 
hot  hoe-cakes,  and  a  broiled  chicken  extra  for  each  of 
'em  to  take  along  to  bite  on,  for  they  won't  stop  for 
any  breakfast,  you  may  be  sure,"  said  Aunt  Mandy  as 
she  bustled  around  between  the  cookroom  and  the  table, 
spread  on  the  long  back  porch. 

"I  am  glad  ye  got  here  in  time  for  a  hot  supper.  Dr. 
Tony,"  said  Aunt  Mandy  as  she  called  the  gentlemen 
to  the  table. 

"After  grace,  I'll  tell  ye  just  how  glad  I  was  to  get 
here.  Aunt  Mandy,"  replied  the  Doctor,  and  all  bent 
their  heads  as  Amen  Scurlock  asked  God's  blessing  upon 
the  meal,  and  upon  those  who  were  soon  to  face  danger, 
and  possibly  even  death.  "You  see.  Aunt  Mandy,"  con- 
tinued Dr.  Tony,  "I  forage  around  a  good  deal,  and 
my  old  stomach  has  to  experiment  to  no  end  upon  tough 
pies  and  leather  hoe-cakes.  As  I  was  ridin'  along  this 
afternoon,  the  bearer  of  bad  news,  thar  was  but  one 
bright  spot,  and  that  was,  I  had  your  sujDper  table  be- 
fore my  longing  eyes.  I  am  here,  and  now  to  the  busi- 
ness of  the  hour." 

Supper  over,  all  realized  that  the  parting  before  them 
was  for  months ;  Charley  Sheering  had  left  brave  Han- 
nah in  tears,  but  Spartan-like,  bidding  him  return  vic- 
torious in  life,  or  conquered  only  by  death.  Joel 
pressed  his  weeping  wife  and  the  little  babe  to  his 
heart,  and  brushing  his  rough,  homespun  coat  sleeve 
across  his  eyes,  stood  ready  to  mount.  Colonel  Paisly 
heartily  shook  hands  with  each  of  the  friends  he  was 
leaving  behind,  saying  to  Amen  Scurlock,  "Good-by, 
my  dear  friend;  I  am  indebted  to  you  for  much  hos- 
pitality, and  shall  never  forget  you."     To  Aunt  Mandy 


124  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

he  saidj,  "God  bless  and  protect  you,  madam,  and  give 
you  back  your  sweet  daughter  in  happier  and  more 
peaceful  days.  I  shall  often,  when  sleeping  on  the  bare 
ground  or  on  the  edge  of  two  rails,  think  of  your  sweet 
home  of  restful  comfort;  God  bless  you  all." 

Aunt  ]\Iandy  had  entrusted  Luke  with  a  letter  for 
Polly  Rutherford,  and  took  him  a  little  to  one  side  that 
she  might  take  more  tender  leave  of  him,  for  she  loved 
Luke  very  much  as  a  mother  might  love.  With  her 
arms  over  his  tall,  broad  shoulders,  she  said: 

"Give  this  letter  to  our  gal,  Luke;  and  if  she  will  let 
you,  give  her  a  dozen  kisses  from  her  old  mammy,  and 
I'll  give  'em  to  you  now.  Be  good  to  yourself,  boy; 
fear  God,  and  ye'll  have  no  need  to  fear  your  enemies. 
I  know  you  will  be  brave;  and  may  the  God  of  battles 
watch  over  ye  all,  and  fetch  ye  back  home  in  peace." 

Joel  Sowell's  place  had  been  used  as  the  headquar- 
ters of  Colonel  Paisly's  recruits,  a!nd  when  Dr.  Tony 
and  Amen,  who,  with  the  women  folk,  had  followed  our 
troopers  through  the  dim  starlight  out  to  the  horse  rack, 
had  given  the  last  hand-shake,  and  Luke,  who  had  con- 
stituted himself  bugler,  sounded  the  call,  each  man 
vaulted  into  the  saddle,  and  following  the  lead  of  Joel, 
they  departed  at  a  brisk  gallop  toward  the  Sowell 
place  to  gather  up  their  force  and  depart  for  the 
scene  of  action. 

"Aunt  Mandy,"  said  Dr.  Tony,  "if  we  had  five  thou- 
sand such  men  as  them,  we  would  chase  Cornwallis  into 
the  sea  before  frost  comes.  I  am  mighty  afeard,  though, 
that  some  of  the  dear  boys  won't  get  back;"  and  the 
old  doctor's  voice  quavered,  and  his  big  eyes  looked 
very  watery. 

"We  must  trust  'em  to  the  keepin'  of  the  Lord,  Dr. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CANE    CREEK        125 

Tony;  if  it's  His  will,  they'll  surely  come  back;  and 
if  not.  He  has  taken  them  out  of  a  heap  o'  trouble." 

"That's  so.  Aunt  Mandy;  it  looks  like,  just  now,  that 
trouble's  the  biggest  part  of  life;  but  I  reckon  when  it's 
all  over  we  will  have  had  quite  as  much  of  the  good 
of  it  as  our  cussedness  deserved;  so  I  am  just  livin' 
from  day  to  day,  takin'  things  like  they  come,  the  good 
luck  and  the  bad  luck." 

"I  am  takin'  things,  Tony,  as  the  Lord  sends  'em. 
Amen  Scurlock  takes  no  happen  chances.  You  must 
recognize  a  God  in  all  events ;  what  He  don't  order.  He 
permits,  even  if  the  devil  seems  to  have  his  own  way 
sometimes." 

"Would  you  be  so  piously  resigned.  Amen,  if  the 
Tories  was  to  come  and  burn  you  out  of  house  and 
home  like  they  tried  to  do  for  Joel  Sowell?"  asked  Dr. 
Tony. 

"I  should  try  to  be,  Tony;  and  would  look  upon  such 
a  calamity  as  one  of  the  things  He  didn't  order,  but 
permitted.  But,  if  my  old  rifle  would  arrest  the  per- 
mit,  I  should  feel  bound  to  save  my  property." 

"Now,  that  sounds  like  Amen  Scurlock,"  said  Dr. 
Tony  with  a  broad  smile  on  his  face.  "I  think  a  man 
under  the  necessity  for  savin'  his  property  could  shoot 
Tories  to  the  glory  of  God ;  and  I  don't  mean  any  sacri- 
lege, neither,  when  I  say  it." 

"It  is  certainly  Christian  duty  to  resist  evil,  Tony; 
but  I  hope  I  won't  be  called  upon  to  do  it  in  that  way. 
Let's  go  in  and  take  a  smoke  before  goin'  to  bed." 

Colonel  Paisly  found  his  men  at  Sowell's  place, 
through  cooking  supper,  and  pickets  had  been  placed 
as  usual,  to  prevent  anything  like  a  surprise  from  any 
straggling  band  of  Tories  that  might  be  passing.  He 
soon    ordered    in    the    pickets^    boot    and    saddle    was 


126  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

sounded,  and  speedily  every  trooper  was  ready  for  the 
long  march.  Paisly  had  never  led  a  better  mounted 
troop;  Sheering  had  exchanged  one  of  his  horses  with 
Corneal  Tyson  for  a  full  brother  of  Fanning's  Red 
Buck;  Luke's  Sorrel  Top  was  a  horse  of  great  action, 
muscle  and  power;  and  Joel's  horse  was  but  little  in- 
ferior to  those  of  Sheering  and  Stallings.  The  Colonel 
also  was  well  mounted  upon  a  large  black  gelding,  with 
wind  and  bottom  that  gave  him  great  advantage  in  a 
charge  or  a  long  march.  The  remainder  of  the  troop 
were  fairly  mounted,  and  the  speed  they  were  able  to 
make  that  cool  September  night  was  a  surprise  even 
to  the  eager  company  striving  to  reach  their  enemy  in 
time  to  aid  in  an  attempted  rescue  of  the  Governor. 

The  night  passed  rapidly,  and  as  the  mist  began  to 
rise  along  a  dimly  defined  belt  of  timber  in  the  distance. 
Colonel  Paisly  asked  Charley  Sheering,  who  rode  at  his 
right  hand: 

"Where  are  we,  Charley,  and  is  that  Haw  River  we 
are  approaching?" 

*'We  are  now  among  the  Red  Hills  of  Orange;  yes, 
that  is  Haw  River.  It  is  only  about  ten  miles  to  Haw- 
fields,  now;  and  we  should  keep  a  lookout  for  our 
friends,  if  they  are  coming,  Colonel.'* 

"We  have  been  keeping  to  the  left,  or  westward,  and 
have  passed  around  the  enemy,  but  the  road  we  are  on 
should  be  the  one  by  which  our  friends  should  come," 
said  Luke. 

"Very  well,"  said  Paisly;  "we  will  advance  as  far 
as  the  river  and  there  await  events ;  that  will  give  our 
horses  time  to  blow,  at  any  rate,  for  we  have  given 
them  a  hard  night's  work." 

The  keen  eyes  of  Luke  and  Charley  were  on  the 
lookout   as   they  drew  near   a    ford,   and,   dismounting. 


THE    BATTLE    OF   CANE    CREEK        127 

they  picketed  their  horses  in  a  grassy  spot  and  crept 
through  the  thick  bushes  that  lined  the  bank,  to  a  point 
on  the  bluff  overhanging  the  spot  where  the  road 
entered  the  river.  From  this  spot  they  could  see  the 
opposite  bank  and  a  little  piece  of  the  road  leading  to 
it,  and  they  eagerly  watched  for  any  sign  of  approach 
of  troops  from  the  Hawfields  settlement.  They  were 
soon  joined  by  Colonel  Paisly,  and  as  they  watched  and 
waited,  each  man  opened  his  homespun  haversack  and 
made  a  vigorous  attack  upon  the  hoe-cakes  and  cold 
chicken  Aunt  Mandy  had  so  thoughtfully  provided, 
while  the  Colonel  began  the  conversation  by  words  of 
praise  for  the  Chatham  County  people. 

"I  am  glad  I  came  to  Chatham,  boys,  for  besides  re- 
cruiting ten  good  fighting  men,  I  have  made  friends 
with  some  noble  people.  Luke,  you  are  a  lucky  fellow 
to  have  won  the  confidence  and  love  of  Daddy  Scur- 
lock  and  Aunt  Mandy.  They  won  my  heart  com- 
pletely, and  I  shall  treasure  my  visit  there  as  a  sweet 
memory.  That  old  uncle  of  yours.  Corneal  Tyson,  is  a 
strong  character,  Charley,  and  you  have  a  wife  that 
should  content  the  heart  of  any  man.  If  these  people 
are  a  fair  sample  (with  Joel  Sowell  and  his  pretty 
wife  thrown  in)  of  Chatham  County  folk,  I  should  be 
well  content  to  dwell  among  them." 

"Ah,  Colonel,  no  one  but  Luke  Stallings  knows  how 
the  love  and  friendliness  of  Daddy  and  Aunt  Mandy 
Scurlock  are  treasured  up  in  here;"  and  Luke  laid  his 
hand  over  his  heart.  "I  was  a  poor  orphan  boy,  never 
saw  my  father,  and  my  mother  died  when  I  was  born. 
When  I  got  big  enough  to  work  (before  that  I  stayed 
about  among  the  neighbors,  mostly  at  Daddy  Scur- 
lock's),  I  went  to  live  with  old  Parson  Rowe,  and  was 
striker  in  his  blacksmith  shop  when  you  wouldn't  have 


128  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

thought  I  could  sling  a  sledge.  No  Sunday  passed 
when  we  had  preaching  at  Brush  Creek,  that  I  did  not 
go  home  with  the  Scurlocks  and  spend  Sunday  night. 
That  was  the  only  real  home  I  ever  knew.  With 
Charley,  here,  it  was  different;  he  always  had  a  home 
and  was  worth  a  good  property  from  the  start." 

"I  shouldn't  complain/'  said  Charley.  "My  dear 
old  Daddy  lived  to  start  me  in  the  right  road  to  suc- 
cess in  life — if  I  only  keep  the  road — and  my  mother 
was  one  of  the  people  I  am  sure  I  will  find  in  Heaven 
if  I  ever  get  there.  Uncle  Corneal  Tyson  is  about  the 
oddest  makeup  I  ever  saw  in  any  one  man.  When  he 
loves,  he  loves;  when  he  hates,  he  hates;  and  while  he 
says  he  is  a  Loyalist,  he  spends  more  money  on  the 
quiet  to  help  poor  Whigs  than  any  man  in  Chatham, 
unless  it  be  Daddy  Scurlock.  But  look  yonder. 
Colonel!  there  is  a  good  bit  of  dust  along  that  piece  of 
road  as  you  come  down  to  the  ford;  our  folks  must  be 
a-comin'/* 

Colonel  Paisly  drew  from  a  leather  case  swung  over 
his  shoulder  a  rare  thing  never  before  seen  by  either 
Luke  or  Charley,  and  gazing  through  it,  exclaimed: 

"Thank  God !  they  are  coming.  I  can  see  Colonel 
Alexander  Mebane  riding  in  front  with  an  officer  and 
staff,  and  they  are  making  rapidly  toward  the  ford 
and  are  throwing  out  videttes  to  be  sure  of  a  clear 
crossing." 

"What  is  that  you  are  looking  through.  Colonel?" 
asked  Luke. 

"  'Tis  a  field  glass ;  take  a  peep  and  tell  me  how  many 
men  you  see,  Luke." 

Luke  placed  the  glass  to  his  eye,  and  his  bright  face 
gleamed  with  intelligence  and  surprise  as  he  began 
counting. 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CANE    CREEK        129 

"Gracious  me !  Colonel,  there  is  a  big  lot  of  'em, 
and  it  looks  like  we  could  almost  touch  'em.  Just  look 
through,  Charley;  I  never  saw  anything  like  it  before." 

Charley  surveyed  from  their  elevated  position  on  the 
bluff  the  approaching  force,  saying,  with  great  satis- 
faction: 

"It's  a  glorious  sight.  Colonel;  I  suppose  you'll  meet 
a  lot  o'  friends  from  over  thar  about  Hawfields ;  and  it's 
my  opinion  we  are  going  to  have  a  hot  fight  to-day." 

"I  think  so,  too,  Charley,"  replied  the  Colonel.  "Let 
us  descend  to  the  river  bank  and  welcome  the  little  army 
we  must  depend  on  to-day;  many  of  them  are  my  old 
friends." 

"Before  we  start,  tell  me.  Colonel,  where  you  got 
this  seeing  thing  from.^"  asked  Luke.  His  interest  in 
the  field  glass  was  thoroughly  aroused,  for  he  recog- 
nized its  value  to  a  soldier. 

"I  can  tell  you  just  as  well  as  we  go  along,  Luke;  I 
captured  the  glass  at  the  battle  of  Guilford  Court 
House  from  a  dapper-looking  little  British  major,  who 
swore  hard  at  giving  up  the  'seein'  thing,'  as  you  call 
it.  I  could  not  afford  to  let  an  enemy  keep  so  rare 
and  useful  a  weapon  as  that,  for  they  are  costly  and 
hard  to  get  this  side  of  New  York  or  Philadelphia;  but 
I  did  not  give  him  over  a  guinea  for  it." 

While  Colonel  Paisly  was  speaking,  they  had 
descended  from  the  bluff,  had  reached  the  bank  of  the 
stream,  and  were  now  awaiting  the  nearer  approach  of 
the  head  of  the  Continental  column,  having  already 
signaled  the  videttes.  By  the  side  of  General  Butler 
rode  Colonel  Alexander  Mebane,  who,  recognizing 
Colonel  Paisly,  called  out: 

"Where  in  the  world  did  you  come  from,  Paisly?  I 
thought  you  were  with  General  Greene."   " 


ISO  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

"From  wandering  to  and  fro  picking  up  recruits;  I 
have  sixteen  good  men  up  here  on  the  bluff  equipped 
and  ready  for  this  fight  to-day,  Colonel  Mebane.  Those 
of  them  that  come  off  scatheless  I  shall  take  to  General 
Greene's  army,  for  we  sorely  need  them." 

"Bravo!  Paisly;  we  should  like  to  get  such  recruits 
at  every  fence  corner,  for  Fanning  and  the  Scotch  rene- 
gades are  going  to  give  us  trouble  to-day.  Did  you 
meet  any  of  our  scouts.'*" 

"No,  Colonel  Mebane;  there  is  a  fork  in  the  road 
several  miles  back,  and  they  doubtless  took  the  left 
hand  road  there  as  you  go  south,  while  we  came  into 
this  road  from  a  right  fork.  We  did  not  care  to  meet 
the  enemy  until  we  could  reach  your  force." 

Colonel  Mebane  and  General  Butler  were  now  safely 
over  the  river,  and  followed  Paisly  and  his  men  up 
the  hill  to  where  Paisly's  little  troop  were  stationed. 
Mebane  presented  Colonel  Paisly  to  General  Butler, 
who  gladly  welcomed  him  and  his  men,  and  told  him 
he  would  have  them  ride  near  the  front,  and  they 
should  have  a  post  of  honor  in  the  day's  encounter. 

"How  far  ahead  of  us  do  you  think  our  enemy  is, 
General?"   asked  Paisly. 

"We  cannot  tell  until  our  scouts  come  in;  they  are 
circling  around  to  the  front  and  forming  some  idea 
of  which  road  they  will  take  in  going  south." 

The  column  was  now  in  rapid  motion,  and,  as  they 
drew  near  to  the  forks  of  the  road  we  have  heretofore 
mentioned,  a  horseman  was  seen  rapidly  approaching 
them. 

"There  comes  tidings,"  said  Mebane;  "and  you  can 
rely  on  that   fellow." 

The  scout  approached,  halted  his  horse  with  a  sud- 
den strong  pull,  and   lifting  his   cap,   said  quickly: 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CANE    CREEK        131 

"General,  the  enemy  are  heading  for  Cane  Creek 
and  moving  rapidly." 

"Good!"  said  the  General;  "there  is  no  better  point 
to  check  them  than  where  this  road  we  take  below  here 
crosses  the  creek.     Forward!" 

The  command,  "Forward/'  was  taken  up  along  the 
line,  and  soon  the  moving  host  was  enveloped  in  red 
dust,  as  the  Continentals  pressed  forward  to  secure  a 
good  position  on  the  south  bank  of  Cane  Creek  before 
their  enemy  should  reach  the  crossing. 

Meanwhile,  we  will  take  a  glimpse  at  the  Tory  force, 
and  record  one  or  two  scenes  in  their  camp  the  night 
before  the  battle.  There  was  much  jealousy  between 
Fanning's  followers,  and  Colonel  Hector  McNeill  and 
the  Scotch  people  who  followed  his  banner.  As  Fan- 
ning, Steve  Walker  and  Jack  Rains  sat  by  their  camp- 
fire  on  the  night  following  the  day  they  had  spent  in 
Hillsboro,  they  talked  of  the  scenes  through  which 
they  had  passed,  and  each  man  evinced  a  feeling  of 
jealousy  and  bitter  dislike  to  the  "clannish  Scotch  dev- 
ils," as  Walker  called  them. 

"We  just  couldn't  help  ourselves.  Colonel,"  said 
Walker.  "We  needed  all  the  men  we  had,  but,  if  you 
had  been  able  to  muster  three  hundred  men  like  our 
boys,  we  would  have  done  the  job,  and  no  thanks  to 
Hector  McNeill.     Now  the  Scotch  will  claim  the  day.'* 

"They  shall  not  claim  the  day,  Steve;  they  shall 
divide  honors  with  me,"  replied  the  Colonel.  "Be- 
sides, we  are  not  through  with  this  job  yet.  I  look  for 
hard  fighting  before  we  can  get  our  prisoners  safely 
beyond  this  devilish  Whig  country." 

"A  poor  fight  they'll  put  up.  Colonel,"  exclaimed 
Jack  Rains.     "Why,  they  scattered  like  skeered  sheep 


132  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

to-day.  I  can  take  our  squad  and  run  the  lot  into 
Haw  River/' 

**Not  so  fast,  Rains;  you  will  see  a  desperate  fight, 
mind  what  I  say.  And  there  are  men  in  their  ranks 
that  have  got  you  and  Walker  and  me  spotted;  so  look 
out." 

*'I  shall  look  out,  Colonel;  and  if  I  go  to  the  undis- 
kivered  country  to-morrow  I  will  take  along  with  me  the 
biggest  leader  I  can  pick  out  from  among  the  Whigs." 

"Nevertheless,  you  would  be  dead,  all  the  same,  Jack; 
and  I  should  lose  one  of  my  best  fighters.  But  let 
us  keep  the  peace  with  these  Scotch  folk.  They  are 
a  cranky  lot,  but  will  fight  anything  that  stands  in 
front  of  'em;  and  old  Hector  McNeill  has  a  heart  of 
gold  and  truly  loves  the  King's  cause." 

"But  he  stands  in  your  way.  Colonel,"  said  Steve 
Walker.  "He  is  so  high  and  mighty,  and  holds  his 
men  to  be  so  much  better  than  Tanning's  gang,'  as 
they  call  us.  I  want  them  to  do  the  hard  fighting  to- 
morrow; then  if  'Fanning's  gang'  has  to  save  'em  from 
destruction,  you  will  get  some  of  the  credit.  As  things 
stand  now,  it's  Hector  McNeill  has  captured  Governor 
Burke." 

"Never  fear  but  Fanning  will  get  his  own,  Steve 
Walker.  We  will  do  our  duty  when  the  time  comes, 
and  I  will  see  that  history  is  writ  right  by  doin'  some- 
thing she  is  bound  to  record.  But  we  had  all  as  well 
turn  in  and  get  what  rest  we  may,  for  the  orders  be  to 
march  before  daylight." 

Around  Colonel  Hector  McNeill's  campfire  sat  young 
Duncan  Ray,  Dushee  Shaw,  Captain  McLean,  and  a 
few  friends  among  the  rank  and  file  who  loved  to  be 
near  and  to  hear  their  leader  tell  of  the  past.  Colonel 
Dushee  Shaw,  a  youth  in  years  but  a  soldier   in  his 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CANE    CREEK        133 

courageous  bearing,  was  much  beloved,  not  only  by  his 
old  Colonel,  but  by  the  men  under  him;  and  his  cheery 
voice  seemed  full  of  earnest  remonstrance  as  he  re- 
plied to  his  venerable  commander: 

"Nay,  nay.  Colonel  McNeill,  bid  your  fears  away; 
death  has  no  claim  on  ye  yet." 

"Na,  na,  I  ha'  no  fears,  laddie,  for  deith  ha'  looked 
me  i'  the  face  many  times  afore;  but  somewhat  tells  me 
it  was  to  be  me  last  fecht.  I  been  thinkin'  a'  day  o' 
Culloden  Moor  and  the  brave  stand  we  made  for  Prince 
Charley,  and  how  the  licht  went  out  at  sunset  upon 
the  house  o'  Stuart.  Then  o'  the  exile  from  auld  Scot- 
land, and  the  oath,  yea,  the  oath.  'Tis  not  a  King  on 
the  throne,  Dushee,  lad,  but  our  oath  to  the  Crown  that 
brings  us  a-field  to-day.  We  ha'  mony  friends,  Dushee, 
lad,  in  yon  ranks;  they  will  fecht  for  hame  an'  roof- 
tree.  It  will  be  a  sair  battle.  I  see  a  field  o'  bluid,  an' 
mine  will  flow  in  sic  a  stream  ma  life  will  go  out  like 
the  tide  fra'  Firth  o'  Clyde." 

"I  pray  thee,  speak  not  thus,  my  dear  Colonel,"  urged 
Duncan  Ray.  "I  will  take  any  position  of  danger  that 
shall  shield  thee." 

"And  I !"  cried  young  Shaw. 

"A  McNeill  is  ever  at  the  front  o*  battle,  lads; 
naethin'  houlds  back  one  o'  the  name.  I  shall  stand  in 
me  lot;  he  w'u'dna  be  a  McNeill  that  would  do  less. 
Go  to  sleep,  lads,  that  we  may  waken  strong  for  duty. 
Good  night."  And  the  brave  old  Colonel  prepared  to 
seek  his  last  night's  rest  as  a  soldier  of  King  George. 

The  main  crossing  at  Cane  Creek  was  well  guarded 
by  the  force  that  Colonel  Mebane  and  General  Butler 
had  hastily  gathered;  and  so  well  had  their  presence 
been  secreted  that  the  advance  column  of  Tories  were 
actually    crossing    the    creek,    without    a    suspicion    of 


134  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

danger,  when  a  volley  from  the  Whigs  carried  death  and 
wounds  into  their  ranks  and  caused  both  consternation 
and  a  pause.  McNeill,  although  brave,  was  prudent, 
and  at  the  first  fire  ordered  his  men  to  retreat  out  of 
range,  as  an  advance  at  that  stage  of  the  engagement 
only  meant  slaughter.  Colonel  McDugal  here  swore  at 
his  superior  officer,  intimating  cowardice  in  a  man  who 
had  stood  in  the  forefront  of  battle  on  many  a  field,  and 
who  knew  not  to  fear  the  face  of  man.  The  order  to 
retreat  was  countermanded,  and,  with  the  bravery  that 
belonged  to  his  race.  Colonel  Hector  McNeill  led  the 
advance  and  fell  at  the  next  volley,  his  manly  form 
pierced  by  no  less  than  six  shots.  Beside  him  lay 
Colonel  Dushee  Shaw,  who,  keeping  near  his  beloved 
commander,  had  shared  his  fate,  falling  with  the  dew 
of  his  youth  upon  him,  both  of  them  enemies  to  Colo- 
nial freedom,  but  honored  in  their  death  by  the  hum- 
blest soldier  of  the  Continental  cause,  because  they 
were  just  as  well  as  chivalric. 

Colonel  Fanning,  seeing  the  stubborn  resistance  of 
the  Whigs  and  fearing  the  retaking  of  the  prisoners, 
determined  to  attempt  the  crossing  of  the  creek  at 
another  point  and  an  attack  upon  his  enemy  in  the  rear. 
In  the  crossing  he  was  successful,  and  it  was  here  that 
Colonel  Paisly's  gallant  little  troop  did  such  fighting 
as  Fanning  and  Jack  Rains  had  not  expected,  for  under 
Paisly's  leadership  they  fought  like  veterans.  Led  by 
the  impetuous  Fanning,  the  charge  of  his  men  was 
almost  irresistible;  and  the  conflict  was  bloody,  indeed, 
for  men  who  knew  and  hated  his  gang  opposed  him. 

"Yonder  is  that  devil.  Fanning,"  exclaimed  Charley 
Sheering.  "Now  it's  'Lightning'  against  'Red  Buck,'  " 
and  putting  spurs  to  his  fiery  charger  (the  horse  giving 
forth  wild  neighs).  Sheering  made  a  rush  for  Fanning; 


THE    BATTLE    OF    CANE    CREEK        135 

and,  although  riding  at  full  speed,  took  deliberate  aim 
with  a  well-charged  rifle,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  Fanning  drop  his  arm. 

Sheering  was  anxious  to  capture  Fanning;  but  his 
watchful  friend,  Steve  Walker,  seeing  his  leader 
wounded,  quickly  came  to  his  aid,  and,  not  without  a 
struggle,  bore  him  from  the  field.  So  Charley  con- 
tinued to  pay  old  scores  by  disabling  at  least  one  or 
two  more  of  the  gang  before  the  engagement  closed. 

Luke  Stallings  made  a  desperate  effort  to  reach  Steve 
Walker;  but  the  wounding  of  Fanning  proved  a  provi- 
dence to  Walker  and  took  that  especial  enemy  out  of 
his  reach,  leaving  him  a  free  fighter;  and  Ed  Edwards, 
another  hated  member  of  the  Fanning  Troop,  fell  by 
his  sword,  although  a  spent  ball,  passing  through  his 
chapeau,  gave  him  a  scalp  wound  that  proved  painful. 

It  was  toward  the  close  of  the  fight  that  Jack  Rains, 
who  had  been  trying  all  through  the  day  to  single  out 
the  Whig  leaders  as  targets  for  his  vicious  rifle,  suc- 
ceeded in  killing  Major  Nail,  a  gallant  Chatham  sol- 
dier, a  brave  defender  of  the  Continental  cause  and 
much  beloved.  Delighted  with  the  result  of  his  marks- 
manship, he  hurriedly  dashed  up  to  where  Colonel 
Paisly,  Charley  Sheering  and  Joel  Sowell  sat  upon 
their  horses,  during  a  lull  in  the  battle,  evidently  think- 
ing that  he  was  approaching  a  group  of  Fanning's  men. 
As  he  drew  near,  his  savage  face  was  aglow  with 
Satanic  joy,  and  he  exclaimed  exultantly: 

"Another  rebel  leader  gone.  I  have  just  killed 
Major  Nail." 

Scarcely  had  he  stopped  speaking  before  three  pis- 
tols were  drawn  and  quickly  fired,  each  ball  finding 
its    mark   in    the    brutal    heart    of    Jack    Rains.      The 


136  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

prophecy  of  David  Fanning  had  been  speedily  ful- 
filled— Jack  Rains  was  dead. 

The  battle  of  Cane  Creek  was  bloody  and  fruitless 
as  to  its  object.  Fanning's  troop  and  the  Scotch  forces, 
now  under  the  command  of  McDugal,  withdrew  from 
the  field,  and  succeeded  in  reaching  the  shelter  of  Raft 
Swamp  and  their  favorite  camping  ground  at  McPhaul's 
Mill.  Here  Governor  Burke  and  all  the  Continental 
prisoners  were  placed  in  charge  of  a  Scotch  escort  com- 
manded by  Colonel  Ray,  and  delivered  to  Major  Craig, 
the  British  commander  at  Wilmington. 

All  pursuit  seemed  vain;  and  this  daring  deed,  a 
great  mortification  to  all  true  Continentals,  gave  David 
Fanning  and  his  lawless  troop  encouragement  to  per- 
petrate many  dark  and  bloody  atrocities  before  the 
final  close  of  the  struggle.  Many  of  the  prisoners  lan- 
guished in  prison  ships  or  stockades  many  long  and 
weary  months.  Governor  Burke  succeeded  in  making 
his  escape  from  prison  in  April  of  1782,  and  resumed 
his  office  as  Governor  at  Old  Salem,  the  Moravian 
settlement. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

DR.    TONY   SIDEBOTTOM    DECIDES    "tO   RESK   IT** 

After  the  departure  of  Colonel  Paisly  and  his  brave 
boys  in  quest  of  their  enemy,  Amen  Scurlock  and  Dr. 
Tony  Sidebottom  sat  on  the  front  porch  at  Skin  Quar- 
ter, smoking  and  talking,  until  long  after  Roxy  Sowell 
and  the  baby  were  in  the  land  of  dreams;  and  Aunt 
Mandy,  who  had  been  setting  her  bread  to  rise  and 
bustling  about  to  get  things  in  order  for  the  night, 
finally  joined  them. 

"Looks  as  if  you  and  Amen  was  about  to  spend  the 
night  out  here.  Dr.  Tony.  S'pose  I  fetch  you  both  a 
shakedown." 

"Is  beds  skerce,  Aunt  Mandy.''  If  so,  a  shakedown'll 
do.'* 

"Now,  Tony  Sidebottom!  when  did  you  ever  find 
beds  skerce  at  Skin  Quarter?" 

"Never  in  my  born  days,  Aunt  Mandy;  'xcuse  my 
sass,  but  I  am  kinder  rattled,  bein'  as  Amen  has  been 
ridin'  the  marryin'  hobby  horse  ag'in,  and  has  made  me 
feel  as  if  I  was  little  better'n  a  dog  because  I  have  no 
wife  at  Hardscrabble.  I  do  live  like  a  dog,  that's  a 
fact;  the  best  room  at  my  place  is  whar  I  put  winter 
apples  and  shelled  peas,  and  the  rats  has  about  taken 
the  place.  I  do  have  as  good  a  feather  bed  as  yourn, 
Aunt  Mandy,  thanks  to  my  flock  o'  geese  and  old 
Dicey;  but  it's  dag-goned  hard  livin'  the  way   I  live.** 

"It  is  high  time  Old  Dicey  and  Hardscrabble  had  a 

137 


138  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

mistress,  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom;  and  I  just  want  to 
know  what  you  are  a-waitin'  for?  You  are  certainly 
old  enough,  and  you  ought  to  have  plenty  to  take  care 
of  Cynthy;  you  are  wastin'  precious  time." 

"Oh,  I've  heard  all  that,  Aunt  Mandy,  before;  and 
Amen  has  preached  me  a  reg'lar  sermon,  and  painted 
Cynthy  like  unto  an  angel;  but  somehow  I'm  a  little 
afeard  of  red  hear.  They  tell  me  folks  with  red  hear 
are  vig'rous  tempered,  and  don't  mind  puUin'  a  fel- 
low's wool  if  he  don't  squar'  to  thar  notions.  Now,  if 
I  was  bald-headed  I  might  resk  it;  but  you  know. 
Aunt  Mandy,  I  have  a  most  uncommon  growth  of  hear, 
and  its  roots  is  very  firmly  set;  they  used  to  call  me 
'Absalom'  on  account  of  my  hear.  Now,  if  me  and 
Cynthy  should  not  set  horses,  as  the  sayin'  goes,  and 
she  should  tangle  my  wool  with  her  long,  slim  fingers, 
dag-goned  if   I  would  know  what  to   do." 

The  merry  laugh  of  Aunt  Mandy  and  the  shaking 
rumble  of  Amen  Scurlock  aroused  Baby  Sowell,  but 
Roxy  soon  hushed  the  little  one  to  sleep  again,  while 
Aunt  Mandy  called  Dr.  Tony  to  order. 

"You  rediculous  man !  you  are  enough  to  make  a  dog 
laugh_,  and  you  have  made  me  rouse  the  baby.  We 
must  talk  easy;  and  I  want  to  tell  a  few  things  about 
Cynthy  Shaw  that  maybe  you  don't  know.  Red  hear, 
as  you  call  it,  ain't  always  a  sign  of  temper,  but  it's 
a  sure  sign  of  talent;  most  of  the  idiots  and  insane  folk 
don't  have  red  heads." 

"That's   so,  that's   so,   Aunt  Mandy.     Go  on." 

"Well,  I  happen  to  know  that  Cynthy  Shaw  has  a 
temjjer  as  sweet  as  a  May  morn,  but,  where  right  and 
wrong  is  involved,  she  is  as  firm  as  rock-ribbed  Pilot 
Mountain;  an  earthquake  wouldn't  shake  her.  If  she 
loved  you  she  would  sacrifice  any  personal  preference 


SIDEBOTTOM  DECIDES  ''TO   RESK  IT''     139 

for  your  good  or  pleasure.  You  know  that  little  nigger 
gal  they  call  'Catnip/  that  waits  on  Cynthy  and  tends 
in  the  dining  room?" 

"Yes,  seen  her  many  a  time^  and  tended  her  when 
she  was  sick  once." 

"Well,  that  little  creatur'  was  left  an  orphan;  her 
mammy  had  been  set  free,  and  died  on  the  county;  her 
daddy  died  when  she  was  less  than  a  year  old.  Cynthy 
took  Catnip  and  raised  her,  taught  her  how  to  help 
herself,  and  now,  if  you  want  a  character  for  Cynthy, 
just  ask  Catnip  what  sort  of  woman  her  mistress  is. 
I  asked  her  the  question  once  when  Cynthy  sent  her 
here  on  an  errand,  and  shall  never  forget  her  answer. 
'What  kind  er  'oman  Miss  Cynthy?  She  ain't  any 
'oman  'tall;  she's  er  angel.  Miss  Mandy.  God  Ermighty 
jest  lent  her  to  Mars'  Tim  er  little  while;  some  day 
she  g^vyin'  to  fly  away  to  Heaben,  where  she  b'long. 
I  loves  de  groun'  she  steps  on.'  Once  I  had  a  spell 
of  fever.  Dr.  Tony — 'twas  while  you  were  away  from 
home,  and  I  was  afeard  I  would  suffer  for  your  faith- 
ful visitations — and  who  do  you  s'pose  pulled  me 
through  by  the  help  of  God?  "Why,  Cynthy  Shaw 
came  over  here  one  morning  and  fetched  her  carpet 
sack  along,  saying  as  she  came  into  my  room,  'I  have 
come  to  stay  with  you.  Aunt  Mandy;  and,  God  willing, 
we  will  soon  quench  this  nasty  fever  that  is  burning 
you  up.'  Oh !  but  she  knew  what  to  do  with  a  fever. 
Dr.  Tony;  and  her  dear  fingers  would  drive  away  pain 
and  sooth  me  to  sleep  many  a  time  when,  before  she 
touched  me,  I  felt  as  if  I  would  go  wild." 

"You  had  better  stop  right  thar.  Aunt  Mandy,"  said 
Dr.  Tony.  "Cynthy  is  too  good  for  me  now,  and  if  you 
tell  me  any  more  about  her  I  shall  be  afeard  to  go 
a-nigh  her." 


140  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

"Nonsense,  Dr.  Tony;  you  are  not  as  bad  as  you 
pictur'  yourself.  I  give  Cynthy  Shaw  just  a  year  to 
have  you  in  trainin',  and  you  will  be  the  properest 
husband  in  Chatham  County  for  your  experience." 

"Thank  you,  Aunt  Mandy;  that  is  a  good  thought  to 
dream  on,  so  I  will  say  good  night  now,  and  to-morrow 
I  think  I  will  ride  over  to  the  crossroads  and  try  my 
luck.*' 

"That's  a  good  resolution.  Dr.  Tony;  and  if  you  ever 
need  any  help,  just  call  on  Mandy  Scurlock.  Good 
night;  you'll  find  your  bed  in  Luke's  room." 

Old  Blaze  was  brought  around  to  the  rack  at  Skin 
Quarter  a  little  after  sunrise  on  the  following  morning, 
and  Dr.  Tony  was  escorted  out  to  the  horse  blocks  by 
the  entire  family,  including  Roxy  and  the  baby.  As 
he  had  to  pass  Skin  Quarter  on  his  return  from  the 
crossroads  to  Hardscrabble,  Aunt  Mandv  made  the 
doctor  promise  to  come  by  and  spend  the  night,  and 
tell  them  the  news  as  to  his  luck.  So  he  rode  away 
with  the  best  wishes  of  this  little  circle  of  friends,  who 
loved  the  tender-hearted  doctor  and  desired  for  him 
true  happiness  and  a  real  home. 

Cynthy  Shaw  was  not  expecting  company,  but  was 
one  of  those  ready  people  who  never  looked  dowdy, 
and  in  her  soft  linsey  gown  and  petticoat  of  dark  blue, 
with  an  irregular  dash  of  scarlet  woven  through  it,  and 
wearing  a  spotlessly  white  apron,  and  with  her  bunch 
of  keys  hanging  from  a  silver  eagle's  beak  in  her  girdle, 
she  never  kept  visitors  waiting,  but  gave  them  speedy 
audience.  Dr.  Tony  had  tied  his  horse  in  front  of  the 
shop,  and,  with  saddlebags  over  his  left  arm,  entered 
the  door  of  the  shop,  finding  Tim  Shaw,  as  usual,  at 
work  with  jack  plain,   saw  and  hammer. 

"Good  mornin',  Tim;  always  at  work." 


SIDEBOTTOM  DECIDES  ''TO  RESK    IT*'     141 

"Good  mornin',  Dr.  Tony;  work  is  what  I  live  by/' 
and  the  old  man  kept  on  sawing. 

"Any  news,  Tim.''" 

"Fightin*  over  on  Cane  Creek,  I  think,  right  now." 

"Why,  have  you  heard  anything,  Tim?" 

"Not  adzackly,  but  I  calkerlate  that  the  Whigs  will 
overtake  Fanning  and  McNeill  about  thar,  and  we  will 
have  news  by  to-morrow  mornin'.  It's  goin'  to  be  a  hot 
scrimmage." 

"I  believe  yer,  Tim,  so  we  will  have  to  wait  for  the 
news.     Where's   Cynthy?'* 

"In  the  weavin'  room;  don't  ye  hear  the  loom?" 

"B'lieve  I  do,  Tim;  surely  she  beats  all  for  work." 

"Like  her  old  mother  was  afore  I  lost  her;  never 
idle  a  minute  except  when  she  was  asleep." 

"I'll  go  into  the  weavin*  room  a  while,  Tim,  and  see 
what  Cynthy's  up  to;  I  like  to  see  a  woman  at  work." 

"All  right.  Dr.  Tony;  stay  and  take  a  bite  of  dinner, 
and  I'll  have  Old  Blaze  put  up  and  fed." 

"Don't  care  if  I  do,  Tim;  I  know  Cynthy  has  some- 
thin'  good  to  eat,  and  good  things  of  any  kind  are 
precious  skerce  at  Hardscrabble." 

Thus  saying,  Dr.  Tony  walked  into  the  dwelling, 
and,  following  the  sound  of  the  loom  as  it  echoed 
through  the  house — shuttle,  bang!  bang! — he  found  him- 
self in  the  wing  room  next  to  the  kitchen.  Cynthy, 
seated  upon  a  high  bench,  with  her  back  toward  him, 
was  weaving  a  rag  carpet  so  industriously  as  to  be 
oblivious  of  his  presence;  the  sound — shuttle,  bang! 
bang! — keeping  time  while  she  sang  in  sweet  tones; 

"Go  to  Jane  Glover, 
And   tell  her   I   love   her; 
And,  by  the  light  of  the  moon, 
I  will  come  to  her." 


142  THE   MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

The  old  ditty  was  one  he  had  in  childhood  heard  his 
mother  sing^  and  he  stood  motionless  as  Cynthy  sang 
on,  finally  seating  himself  in  an  old  split-bottom  chair 
just  inside  the  door,  to  gather  courage  enough  to  arouse 
Cynthy  to  a  realization  of  the  fact  that  he  was  there. 
There  was  a  momentary  lull  in  the  shuttle,  bang!  bang! 
and  Dr.  Tony  said  in  a  most  explosive  way,  "Ahem!" 

Without  turning  her  head,  but  intently  examining 
some  part  of  her  work,  Cynthy  said,  "That  you, 
daddy?" 

"I  haven't  that  honor.  Miss  Cynthy,'*  exclaimed  Dr. 
Tony,  as,  with  a  merry  laugh,  he  arose  and  came  near 
her.  "You  are  the  dag-gondest — pardon  me.  Miss 
Cynthy — gal  for  work  I  ever  did  see.  Don't  you  ever 
get  tired.'*" 

"Why,  Dr.  Tony!  how  long  have  you  been  in  here?" 

"Quite  a  spell.  Miss  Cynthy;  when  I  came  in  you 
was  a-singin'  an  old  song  my  mammy  used  to  sing: 
*Go  to  Jane  Glover.'  " 

"Oh,  Dr.  Tony!  did  you  hear  that  nonsense?  Why 
did  you  not  call  me  when  you  first  came  in?" 

"Why,  I  just  wanted  to  watch  you  at  work.  Miss 
Cynthy;  and  I  wouldn't  take  a  dozen  raccoon  skins 
for  just  havin'  seen  ye  when  yer  didn't  know  it — you 
looked  so  peart  and  pretty  sittin'  thar,  and  weavin'  and 
singin'  like  you  was  so  happy.  Oh,  it  was  a  pictur'  I 
won't  forget  soon.  Miss  Cynthy,  I  can  tell  ye.  Did 
you  weave  that  gown  you  have  on.  Miss  Cynthy?" 

"Yes,  Dr.  Tony;  and  the  suit  daddy  wears  for  every 
day,  and  his  Sunday's  best  black,  too." 

"Well,  dag-gone  me ! — excuse  me.  Miss  Cynthy,  but 
that  most  jostled  the  breath  out  of  me.  I  thought  you 
got  them  fine  things  wove  by  old  Anister  Coffee — ^you 
know  she's  famous  in  Chatham  and  Orange.'* 


SIDEBOTTOM  DECIDES  "TO   RESK  IT''     143 

"I  never  get  any  one  to  do  for  me  what  I  can  quite 
as  well  do  for  myself,  Dr.  Tony.  I  have  been  weaving 
since  I  was  fifteen  years  old." 

"Well,  I  never!  But  this  puts  me  in  mind,  Miss 
Cynthy,  to  speak  of  what  fetched  me  here  to-day.'* 

Miss  Cynthy  kept  her  seat  on  the  high  loom  bench, 
while  Dr.  Tony  moved  the  old  split-bottom  conven- 
iently near  and  balanced  himself  on  the  hind  legs  of 
the  chair. 

"Really,  now^  can't  ye  guess  what  fetched  me  here. 
Miss  Cynthy?" 

"How  should  I,  Dr.  Tony?  I  thought  you  had  been 
to  see  some  sick  folk  and  just  stopped  in." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  Miss  Cynthy;  I  have  business  and 
special  business,  too." 

"Did  you  not  see  daddy  in  the  shop.  Dr.  Tony?" 

"Yes,  I  did,  but  this  business  needn't  reach  him  until 
later.     So  you  can't  guess?" 

"No;  I  have  always  associated  you  and  your  busi- 
ness. Dr.  Tony,  with  sick  folks,  and,  as  I  am  alarm- 
ingly healthy,  surely  you  can  have  no  business  with 
me. 

"Let  me  look  at  your  tongue  and  feel  your  pulse. 
Miss  Cynthy.  Tears  to  me  like  your  cheeks  are  power- 
ful red;  you  might  have  a  little  fever." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  Dr.  Tony;  but  here  is  my  tongue," 
and  she  also  extended  her  plump,  dainty  hand,  saying: 

"Examine  my  pulse,  too,  if  that  will  satisfy  you." 

Dr.  Tony  opened  his  big  blue  eyes  and  gazed  criti- 
cally at  the  pretty  tongue,  while  he  held  Cynthy's  hand 
in  his  a  long  time.  With  a  sweet  smile  and  a  puzzled 
look  in  her  winsome  face,  she  watched  the  doctor  and 
waited  his  next  movement.     He   drew  nearer  to   her. 


144  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

still  holding  her  hand  and  pressing  it  gently;  then, 
looking  earnestly  into  that  puzzled   face,  he   said: 

"I  am  not  satisfied;  so  far  as  health  goes,  I  would 
have  to  give  you  a  certificate,  but.  Miss  Cynthy,  I  am 
not  satisfied — that  is  just  what's  the  matter  with  me. 
I've  got  what  folks  call  a  home,  but  thar  is  nobody 
thar  but  old  Dicey  and  a  bob-tailed  fice  dog,  that  ever 
cares  whether  I  come  or  go.  My  best  room  is  full  of 
apples,  yams  and  shelled  peas;  my  front  yard's  got  a 
few  sickly  lookin'  hollyhocks  and  a  sunflower  or  two, 
but  jimson  weed  grows  faster  than  the  flowers.  I  am 
tired  of  livin'  with  the  dog  and  the  nigger;  nO;,  Miss 
Cynthy,  I  am  not  satisfied." 

"I  am  sorry  for  you,  indeed  I  am,  Dr.  Tony;  you 
must  live  in  great  discomfort.  But  how  do  you  pro- 
pose to  better  your  condition  .f*'* 

"Ah!  now  we  are  gettin'  at  the  business  that  fetched 
me  here.  Miss  Cynthy.  My  remedy  is  to  get  married. 
Lonesome  ain't  any  word  to  tell  what  it  is  for  me  to  live 
at  Hardscrabble  like  I  am  a-livin';  and,  while  marryin* 
is  sometimes  a  resky  business,  in  physic  we  doctors 
say,  'desperate  cases  requires  desperate  remedies.'  " 

"You  seem  to  be  in  a  desperate  humor  this  morning. 
Dr.  Tony;  how  about  your  pulse  and  tongue?  Perhaps 
you  are  a  little  bilious,  and  the  world  all  looks  like  the 
yellow  jaundice." 

"Now,  Miss  Cynthy,  I  didn't  think  you  would  make 
fun  of  what  is  so  serious.  My  liver  is  as  right  as  a 
trivet.     My  trouble  is  a  heart  trouble.  Miss   Cynthy." 

"You  haven't  the  complexion  of  one  with  heart 
trouble.  Dr.  Tony;  such  people  are  usually  very  pallid, 
but  you  have  plenty  of  color." 

"Thar  'tis  ag'in.  Yes,  I've  got  color  enough  to-day 
to  make  a  hollyhock  blush,  but  the  heart  trouble  is  thar. 


SIDEBOTTOM  DECIDES  ''TO  RESK  IT"     145 

all  the  same^  and  you  don't  seem  to  realize  the  cause 
of  it." 

"That  I  don't,  Dr.  Tony;  but  if  I  can  help  you  or 
speak  a  good  word  to  the  fair  one  who  is  troubling 
your  heart  for  you  (if  such  there  be),  I  will  gladly 
do  it." 

"Then  begin  talking  to  yourself,  Miss  Cynthy,  for 
'tis  you  that  is  at  the  bottom  of  all  my  troubles.  Just 
tell  yourself  that  I,  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom,  love  you 
better  than  a  violet  loves  a  cool  spot,  better  than  a 
sunflower  loves  the  sun,  better  than  any  earthly  bein* 
loves  you,  and  it  is  'get  you'  or  dwell  on  in  misery. 
Don't  say  anything  yet,  for  I  ain't  through.  I  know  I 
am  rough,  and  mebbe  you  mought  do  a  sight  better  in 
the  way  of  refineties  and  luxuries,  but  no  man  can  love 
you  like  I  do,  ]\Iiss  Cynthy;  and  you  would  have  me, 
sich  as  I  am,  all  to  yourself.  I've  got  no  father,  no 
mother,  neither  brother  nor  sister,  and  have  nobody  in 
all  this  lonesome  wide  world  to  give  any  love  to  but 
you.  As  for  takin'  care  of  you,  I've  got  plenty,  and 
you  could  make  Hardscrabble  just  what  you  pleased; 
and  I  promise  to  be  as  tender  to  you  as  Roxy  Sowell 
is  to  her  babj^.  I  get  mad  sometimes  and  say  svrear 
words,  mostly  'dag-gone,'  but  my  tempers  is  like  a 
b'ilin'  pot — quick  over  and  done  with — and  you  shall 
teach  me  to  be  a  better  man.  You  are  a  Christian 
woman  and  belong  to  them  folks  that  b'lieve  'what  is  to 
be  will  be  if  it  never  is';  and  so  far  as  I  am  anything, 
I  go  with  them,  too.  So  I  offer  you  a  mission  field  right 
at  home,  and  fear  it  will  be  quite  as  much  heathen 
ground  as  you  could  want.  Once  get  me  converted, 
and  we  will  have  a  meetin'  house  of  our  own,  for  old 
Father  Rowe's  'gospel  according  to  King  George'  is 
about  all  we  ever  git  at  Brush  Creek,  and  I'm  gittin' 


146  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

tired  of  that.  Now,  Miss  Cynthy,  think  all  this  over, 
and  if  you  say  'yea  and  amen/  I  will  chorus  hallelujah! 
I  will  see  you  after  dinner,"  and,  without  waiting  for 
Cynthy  to  make  any  reply.  Dr.  Tony  pulled  his  broad- 
brimmed  wool  hat  over  his  eyes  and  stalked  out  into 
the  shop  to  await*  her  call  to  dinner,  which  was  given 
about  an  hour  thereafter. 

Thus  left  in  the  weaving  room  alone,  Cynthy  drew 
a  long  breath  and  exclaimed,  "Gracious  alive !  a  perfect 
thunderstorm  with  a  clear  sky.  I  was  quite  startled, 
and  really  did  not  know  that  dear  old  Dr.  Tony  had 
so  much  feeling;  how  hard  it  is  to  find  out  some  people! 
Doubtless  he  has  been  thinking  of  this  a  long  time. 
Well,  really  he  is  not  so  very  old — about  fifty,  I  should 
say — and  I  was  thirty-five  my  last  birthday.  I  always 
did  like  the  old  fellow,  but  he  wants  me  to  do  more 
than  that;  and  what  does  my  heart  say?  I  am  cer- 
tainly sorry  for  him;  I  pity  his  absolutely  lonely  con- 
dition; and  he  certainly  needs  somebody.  Well,  yes,  I 
think  I  could  love  and  pet  the  old  fellow  right  smart 
if  he  was  all  mine;  and  a  little  petting  and  loving 
would  make  a  different  man  of  him.  But  I  must  go 
and  help  Catnip  dish  up  dinner.'* 

The  dinner  was  a  dainty  meal,  well  served,  and  it 
gave  Dr.  Tony  a  bright  vision  of  a  white  tablecloth,  a 
bright  copper  teapot,  and  a  bonny  face  behind  it  in  the 
little  room  at  Hardscrabble,  where  he  now  took  his 
lonely  meals,  with  Bob,  the  fice  dog,  under  the  table, 
and  Dicey  to  wait  on  him.  After  dinner  the  doctor 
remained  in  the  dining  room  while  Tim  Shaw  returned 
to  his  work,  but  he  was  not  a  little  puzzled  at  Dr. 
Tony's  'queer  shines,'  as  he  called  them,  muttering  to 
himself: 

"Dr.    Tony's    kinder    doty    to-day;    wonder    what's 


Dr.    Tony   Sidebottom    Concludes  '*  To  Resk   //" 


SIDEBOTTOM  DECIDES  ''TO   RESK  IT"     147 

frizzled  his  feathers?  Seems  to  hang  around  Cynthy 
like  a  fly  buzzin'  around  a  m'lasses  jug.  He's  liable  to 
get  stuck  at  that  business^  and  I  don't  want  it;  don't 
want  any  man  to  come  in  betwixt  me  and  my  only 
gal." 

Cynthy  kept  her  hands  very  busy  washing  up  and 
putting  away  the  dinner  things_,  her  plump  figure  flitting 
about;  the  doctor  looking  on^  but  remaining  as  quiet 
as  a  mouse.  At  last  the  corner  cupboard  was  closed, 
and  Cynthy,  finding  nothing  more  to  employ  her  or  to 
delay  the  inevitable,  smoothed  down  her  spotless  apron 
and  took  a  seat  in  an  armchair  not  far  from  the  window 
that  gave  her  a  view  of  the  main  road.  Her  face  was 
bright  and  serene,  although  there  was  a  sober  look 
about  her  merry  eyes,  and  she  was  evidently  being 
moved  by  new  and  conflicting  emotions.  Several  min- 
utes passed;  the  doctor  could  distinctly  hear  the  ticking 
of  his  old  bull's-eye  watch;  and  the  silence  was  broken 
by  Dr.  Tony,  who  asked  anxiously: 

"Well,  Miss  Cynthy,  what  do  you  think  of  Dr.  Tony 
Sidebottom  as  a  husband,  and  Hardscrabble  as  a  home  }" 

Cynthy  was  no  sentimental  girl,  but  she  was  a  warm- 
hearted woman,  and  realized  that  she  was  deciding  and 
answering  two  great  questions,  so  far  as  her  life  was 
concerned.  Looking  up  to  the  doctor — for  he  had  now 
arisen  from  his  seat  and  stood  near  her — she  said 
softly : 

"You  have  given  me  a  great  deal  to  think  about.  Dr. 
Tony,  and  a  very  short  time  to  do  my  thinking." 

"They  say  love  travels  as  fast  as  sunlight.  Miss 
Cynthy;  at  that  rate,  it  don't  take  long  to  think  as  to 
whether  you  love  Tony  Sidebottom  or  not." 

The  blush  that  mantled  Cynthy's  cheeks  was  the 
advance  courier  to  her  answer.     "I  have  always  thought 


148  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

well  of  you,  Dr.  Tony,  and  feel  that  your  life  has  been 
one  of  self-sacrifice — a  very  loveless  life.  I  little 
thought,  when  we  began  this  talk  this  morning,  that 
your  feelings  toward  me  were  so  tender,  so  really  lover- 
like, and — well,  I  appreciate  such  love  and  have  made 
up  my  mind — and  my  heart  goes  with  it — to  try  and 
make  up  to  you  some  of  the  lost  love  of  your  life;  and 
I  hope  the  Lord  will  enable  me  to  be  to  you  all  that 
you  desire." 

Cynthy  soon  found  herself  lifted  out  of  her  seat  and 
clasped  in  the  strong  arms  of  Dr.  Tony,  while  in 
stentorian  voice  he  shouted,  "Hallelujah!     Hallelujah!" 

Dr.  Tony  relinquished  his  grasp  upon  Cynthy  just  as 
old  Tim  Shaw  walked  in  from  the  shop,  exclaiming; 

"What's  all  this  fuss  about.  Dr.  Tony;  are  you  and 
Cynthy  holding  a  camp  meeting?" 

Dr.  Tony  only  walked  up  and  down  the  room,  ex- 
claiming, "Hallelujah!  Hallelujah!  I  feel  like  I've 
got  religion !"  While  Cynthy,  blushing  and  almost  cry- 
ing, said: 

"I  have  promised  Dr.  Tony  to  love  him  and  to  marry 
him,  Daddy;  and  he  has  had  so  little  love  in  his  life  it 
looks  as  if  he  just  can't  realize  it." 

" Thunder ation !  Cynthy,  have  you  gone  crazy,  too? 
What  is  your  old  daddy  to  do,  I'd  like  to  know?" 

This  question  seemed  to  bring  Dr.  Tony  Sidebottom 
back  to  himself;  and,  grasping  Tim  Shaw  by  the  hand, 
he  said: 

"You  will  have  two  homes  instead  of  one,  Tim;  all  I 
have  shall  be  Cynthy's,  and,  if  you'll  come  and  live 
with  us  up  to  Hardscrabble,  I  will  build  you  a  shop 
right  thar.  You  can  rent  out  Crossroads  and  be  as 
independent  as   a  hog  on  ice — slide  whar  you  please. 


SIDEBOTTOM  DECIDES  ''TO  RESK  IT*'      149 

I  never  was  happy  before,  Tim.  They  saj^  marryin'  is 
a  kind  o'  lottery;  be  it  so,  I'll  resk  it  with  Cynthy/* 

"Well,  I  s'pose  I  have  nothin'  to  say;  maybe  Cynthy 
can  make  two  men  happy/'  was  Tim's  answer,  as  he 
walked  away  to  the  shop  to  finish  a  coflSn. 

It  was  about  sunset  as  Dr.  Tony  reached  Skin  Quar-* 
ter  and  tied  Old  Blaze  at  the  rack.  Amen  and  Aunt 
Mandy  were  on  the  lookout  for  him;  and  as  he  started 
up  to  the  porch  from  the  gate,  she  called  out: 

"What  luck.  Dr.  Tony?" 

With  a  broad  grin  on  his  face,  he  exclaimed,  "Halle- 
lujah! Hallelujah!"  and  his  friends  knew  that  Dr. 
Tony  Sidebottom  was  happy,  and  they  rejoiced  with 
him. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

POLLY  RUTHERFORD    RECEIVES   TWO   VISITORS 

The  sun  was  taking  a  bath  in  its  own  rosy  beams  that 
exquisitely  colored  the  soft  bank  of  clouds  that  towered 
like  mountains  above  the  wooded  hills  of  Guilford. 
Those  hills  and  those  cloudland  mountains  framed  an 
exquisite  landscape  about  the  home  of  Dr.  David  Cald- 
well. The  first  month  of  autumn  seemed  to  cling  to 
summer  greens;  and  the  air  was  warm  enough  to  draw 
fragrance  from  the  flowers,  and  cool  enough  as  the  sun 
dipped  into  a  cloud  of  gray  and  gold  to  warn  lovers  of 
nature  and  its  mysterious  changes  that  autumn  with 
its  chilling  breath  was  not  far  awaj'^.  The  old  home- 
stead stood  in  a  shaded  spot,  and  although  marred  and 
scorched  by  the  torch  of  Briton  and  Tory,  still  afforded 
shelter  to  Dr.  Caldwell,  his  sweet  wife,  and  those  who 
formed  his  household  in  those  perilous  years  between 
1781  and  '83. 

Polly  Rutherford's  sojourn  in  the  home  of  the  Cald- 
wells  was  delightfully  homelike,  for  Mistress  Rachael 
Caldwell  was  as  tender  as  her  own  mother  could  have 
been,  while  the  doctor  made  the  daughter  of  his  old 
friends  as  one  of  his  own  children.  Polly  Rutherford, 
when  not  preparing  lessons  or  in  the  pastor's  study, 
roamed  at  will  over  the  plantation,  gathering  wild 
flowers,  fruits  and  chinquepins,  bringing  home  huge 
bunches  of  dog-fennel  and  golden-rod  with  which  to 
deck  the  best  room,  or  uprooting  wild  ferns  to  trans- 

.150 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS       151 

plant  into  a  fernery  she  had  built  in  the  front  yard  at 
the  parsonage. 

Often  when  the  doctor  was  called  to  see  some  member 
of  Old  Buffalo  or  Alamance  churches,  would  he  call  for 
her,  saying,  "Polly,  my  lass,  come  ride  with  me;  I  want 
company."  The  pillion  was  fixed  behind  the  doctor's 
saddle,  and  his  faithful  old  nag  would  jog  along  with 
the  added  burden  and  think  it  no  hardship. 

It  was  Saturday.  The  doctor  had  made  several  calls 
and  they  were  approaching  the  home  of  old  friends  of 
the  Scurlocks  living  near  Buffalo  Church.  Ralph  Gor- 
don and  his  wife  had  known  Amanda  Scurlock  when 
she  was  Amanda  Moore;  and  Ralph,  before  he  con- 
soled himself  with  the  love  of  Patsy  Smith — now  Mrs. 
Gordon — had  been  a  lover  of  Amanda  Moore.  So 
there  had  always  been  a  warm  friendly  feeling  between 
the  Gordons  and  Scurlocks,  although  for  years  they 
had  dwelt  in  counties  many  miles  apart. 

Riding  up  to  the  horse  blocks  in  front  of  the  Gor- 
dons' just  about  noon,  Dr.   Caldwell  said: 

*'We  will  dine  with  the  Gordons ;  they  are  old  friends 
of  your  father  and  mother,  my  daughter,  and  we  shall 
receive  a  hearty  welcome." 

Lifting  Poll  Rutherford  from  her  seat  on  the  pillion 
to  the  blocks,  the  doctor  watched  with  loving  eyes  the 
grace  and  agility  with  which  she  touched  her  dainty 
feet  upon  the  green  grass  and  followed  him  through 
a  gate  and  up  the  steps  into  the  broad  old-fashioned 
porch,  into  which  opened  the  front  door  of  the  Gordon 
home.  Just  then  a  farm  bell  suspended  from  a  limb 
of  a  huge  oak  tree  in  the  kitchen  yard  pealed  out 
twelve;  and  the  master  of  the  place  was  seen  approach- 
ing the  house  from  a  tobacco  field  that  stretched  away 
to  the  edge  of  a  skirt  of  woods. 


152  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"Yonder  comes  Ralph  Gordon  now,"  said  the  doctor, 
"and  I  hear  Mrs.  Gordon  coming  to  the  door.  Don't 
you  hear  that  thump!  thump!  Polly.''" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  why  does  she  make  so  much  noise. 
Uncle  Caldwell.?" 

"Have  you  never  seen  Patsy  Gordon,  child?" 

"No,  sir,  never." 

"Well,  just  wait  a  minute,  and  you  will  spare  me 
an  answer  to  your  question." 

Just  then  the  door  was  opened  wide — it  was  a  double 
door — and  the  broad,  beaming  face  and  rotund  figure 
of  Patsy  Gordon  so  filled  the  open  door  that  there  was 
no  room  for  any  one  to  pass.  Patsy  Gordon  was  very 
short,  very  stout,  and  her  general  appearance  was  that 
of  an  old-time  Dutch  doll;  but  there  was  something 
very  attractive  in  her  bright  blue  eyes,  blooming  cheeks, 
and  smiling  mouth. 

"Dr.  Caldwell,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you;  come  in. 
And  this  is  Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock?  Come,  kiss  me, 
darling;  your  mother  and  I  were  friends  thirty  years 
agone";  and  leading  the  way,  Mrs.  Gordon  entered  the 
best  room,  then  said,  "Be  seated,  doctor.  Polly,  come 
into  my  room,  my  child,  and  take  off  your  hat  and 
riding  habit;  excuse  us  a  moment,  doctor." 

Continuing  to  talk  as  Polly  took  off  her  traveling 
gear,  Mrs.  Gordon  was  a  source  of  amusement  and  won- 
der to  her  guest,  for  she  could  speak  a  longer  sentence, 
without  taking  breath,  than  any  person  she  had  ever 
met. 

"You  see,  child,  I  heard  you  were  at  the  C  aid  wells, 
and  I've  been  wanting — oh,  so  much  to  get  to  see  you, 
ever  so  much;  but  'tis  so  hard  for  me  to  get  about. 
Don't  think  I've  been  to  church  a  single  Sunday  since 
you  came.     When  the  weather  is  warm,  child,  I  almost 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS       153 

suffocate  with  the  heat.  Just  think  of  weighing  two 
hundred  and  fifty-four  pounds !  and  nothing  but  the 
ox  cart  or  a  two-horse  wagon  will  haul  me.  Is  your 
mother  fat,  too,  child?" 

"No,  Mrs.  Gordon,  mother  does  not  weigh  over  one 
hundred  and  forty  pounds,  and  is  as  active  as   I  am." 

"Oh,  how  I  do  want  to  see  Mandy;  your  mother, 
child,  was  the  dearest  friend  I  ever  had.  She  never 
had  any  child  but  you,  did  she?" 

"No,  Mrs.  Gordon;  I  am  an  only  and  a  spoilt  child." 

"I  never  had  any  children,  Polly;  only  wish  I  had 
a  boy;  he  should  certainly  marry  you,  Polly,  if  you 
would  have  him.  You  don't  lack  for  boys,  though,  for 
they  tell  me  you  are  just  having  your  pick  and  ch'ice 
around  in  Buffalo  and  Alamance  congregations,  among 
the  young  fry  that  are  not  in  the  war." 

**Such  don't  count  for  much,  Mrs.  Gordon.  I  think 
I  should  like  your  boy  if  you  had  one." 

"Well,  you  are  a  girl  of  the  right  spirit.  I  haven't 
got  one,  my  darling;  but  I  have  just  the  most  splendid 
nephew  in  all  Guilford,  and  he  is  a  Continental  colonel, 
too.     Did  you  ever  hear  of  Colonel  John  Paisly?" 

"Colonel  John  Paisly?  Yes,  madam,  I  know  him. 
He  took  a  letter  to  mother  for  me  only  about  a  month 
ago;  but  how  is  he  related  to  you?" 

"You  see,  child,  his  mother,  Ruth  Paisly,  was  a 
Smith,  and  my  own  dear  sister.  She  is  older  than  I 
am,  and  had  married  Squire  John  Paisly  and  settled 
off  just  before  Mandy  and  I  began  to  take  notice  of  the 
boys.  So  she  didn't  know  Mandy  like  I  did.  Now, 
what  do  you  think  of  Colonel  John  Paisly,  Polly?" 

"Oh,  he  is  a  nephew  to  be  proud  of,  Mrs.  Gordon; 
and  a  girl  is  in  danger  when  he  uses  that  persuasive 


154  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

tongue  and  begins  to  cast  a  spell  over  her  with  his 
sparkling  eyes." 

"NoWj  isn't  that  the  truth,  Polly  dear,  if  ever  you 
spoke  it?  You  talk  like  you  had  some  experience.  I 
am  looking  for  John  Paisly  here  this  very  night;  had  a 
message  from  him  only  yesterday  that  he  had  returned 
from  Chatham  and  would  spend  Sunday  with  me  on 
his  way  to  the  army.  Come  right  along  with  me  into 
the  dining-room,  and  I  will  beg  brother  Caldwell  to 
let  me  keep  you  over  Sunday." 

"No,  dear  Mrs.  Gordon,  I  had  better  not  stay,"  urged 
Polly,  and  her  sweet  face  was  crimsoned  with  a  blush 
that  did  not  escape  Mrs.  Gordon. 

"Oh,  but  you  must,  child;  I  am  going  straight  to 
Parson  Caldwell  now;"  and,  without  more  ado,  the 
rotund  figure  of  Mrs.  Gordon  led  the  way  to  the  draw- 
ing-room. She  entered  talking — Aunt  Patsy  loved  to 
talk. 

"Please  excuse  us.  Brother  Caldwell,  for  leaving  you 
so  long;  I  thought  Rafe  would  have  been  here  before 
now.  Oh,  here  he  comes.  Rafe,  why  are  you  so  late.'* 
The  doctor  has  been  lonely." 

Rafe  Gordon,  as  all  his  neighbors  called  him,  was  a 
tall,  spare  man  with  blond  complexion  and  thin  flaxen 
hair,  a  domelike  forehead,  bright  gray  eyes,  a  large 
mouth,  and  handsome  teeth.  His  smile  was  like  sun- 
light, and  his  cordial  manner  made  him  a  great  favorite, 
and  he  was  one  of  Dr.  Caldwell's  most  honored  elders 
at  Old  Buffalo.  Taking  the  doctor's  proffered  hand, 
he  said  in  rich  tones  that  reminded  Polly  Rutherford 
of  Colonel  Paisly: 

"Welcome,  Parson;  I  was  just  out  of  the  tobacco 
field,  Patsy  dear,  and  the  Parson  will  excuse  me  for 
a  free  use  of  soap  and  water." 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS      155 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  said  the  parson;  then,  turning 
to  Polly  Rutherford,  he  said: 

"Come,  daughter,  and  shake  hands  with  Mr.  Gordon. 
Rafe,  this  is  Polly  Rutherford  Seurlock,  the  daughter 
of  Amanda  and  Amen  Seurlock." 

"Oh !  this  is  the  little  girl  I  have  seen  at  Buffalo  for 
several  Sundays.  If  you  are  Mandy's  child,  I  must 
have  a  kiss,  for  I  loved  your  mother  hard  once,  didn't 
I,  Patsy?" 

"I  should  say  you  did,  Rafe;  but  I  am  glad  Amen 
got  Mandy  and  left  you  for  me.  Kiss  Rafe,  child,  his 
mouth  is  sweet  and  clean,  for  although  he  makes  acres 
of  tobacco,  he  never  chews  or  smokes  the  stuff." 

Polly  Rutherford  put  up  her  pretty  red  lips  and  gave 
Rafe  Gordon  a  hearty  kiss,  which  he  pronounced  rich 
and  sweet  and  worth  a  guinea. 

"And  now,"  said  Mrs.  Gordon  (for  she  had  been 
stopped  in  the  midst  of  her  appeal  to  have  Polly  left 
with  her  over  Sunday,  by  Rafe's  coming  in),  "I  wish 
to  ask  a  special  favor  of  you.  Brother  Caldwell." 

"And  what  is  it,  my  dear  madam?"  said  the  doctor 
gravely. 

"Well,  I  am  expecting  my  nephew,  Colonel  John 
Paisly,  here  this  evening  on  his  way  from  Chatham — 
he  has  seen  Polly  Rutherford's  father  and  mother — 
and  I  want  the  darling  girl  to  stay  over  Sunday  with  me 
and  help  me  to  entertain  him  and  any  other  gentleman 
he  may  bring.  Now,  she  is  blushing  and  saying,  'Oh, 
no,  I  can't,'  but  is  there  any  good  reason  why  she 
cannot  remain,  doctor?" 

"None  that  I  am  aware  of,  madam,  although  Polly 
Rutherford  must  decide  that  for  herself.  I  should 
think  it  would  be  a  pleasure  to  her  to  meet  any  one 
who  had  so  very  recently   seen  her  dear  parents,  but 


156  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

Polly  seems  a  little  'gun  shy/  as  the  hunters  say;  and 
a  girl  must  conquer  timidity  by  degrees,  I  suppose. 
What  do  you  say,  Polly  dear;  am  I  to  ride  home 
alone  ?" 

The  blush  had  not  faded  from  Polly's  cheeks  as  she 
gently  replied: 

"I  had  expected  to  return  with  you,  Uncle  Caldwell, 
for  really  I  am  not  quite  prepared  for  Sunday  and  so 
long  an  absence.  The  only  real  reason  why  I  should 
go,  Uncle  Caldwell,  is  that,  as  it  is  Saturday,  I  need 
to  make  some  changes,  and  therefore  need  clothes.'* 

Polly  really  felt  shy  and  almost  afraid  to  see  the 
Colonel. 

"Oh,  listen  to  the  dear  lass;  you  will  just  stay,  my 
darling,  and  Rafe  will  dispatch  Holiday  with  a  line 
from  you  to  Sister  Caldwell,  and  he  will  soon  fetch 
all  your  clean  things  and  kickshaws,  so  that  you  can 
be  as  bewitching  as  you  like.  Ah,  doctor,  you  don't 
quite  understand  the  girls  of  to-day.  Polly  is  not  so 
gun  shy  as  she  makes  out;  but  she  does  not  desire  to 
meet  Colonel  Paisly  unless  she  can  put  the  best  foot 
foremost,  you  know." 

"I  certainly  thank  you,  dear  Mrs.  Gordon,  for  your 
wish  to  have  me  stay,  and  I  would  be  very  ungrateful 
not  to  do  so  when  you  are  willing  to  take  so  much 
trouble  on  my  account.  Please  give  me  a  bit  of  paper, 
ink  horn  and  quill,  and  I  will  soon  write  a  note  to  Aunt 
Caldwell." 

"Now,  that  is  just  like  Mandy's  child;  here  is  every- 
thing to  your  hand,  darling.  Rafe,  call  Holiday  and 
tell  him  to  saddle  Roan  quickly." 

Mr.  Gordon  was  an  obedient  husband,  and  Patsy 
Gordon  was  a  reasonable  wife,  so  they  usually  pulled 
well  together,   and  this   request  was   altogether  to   his 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS      157 

likings  for  he  had  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  Mandy*s  girl. 

So  his  clear,  strong  voice  was  soon  heard  from  the 
back  porch,  calling,  "Holiday!  Holiday!"  and  the 
answer  quickly  came,  "Yars,  marster." 

"Saddle  Roan,  Holiday,  and  then  come  to  the  house 
for  a  letter  you  must  take  to  Mrs.  Caldwell.  She  will 
give  you  something  to  bring  back,  and  don't  let  grass 
grow  under  Roan's  heels." 

"Yars,  marster,  I'll  ride  like  the  Tories  was  arter 
me,  marster,"  and  Holiday  was  soon  dispatched  upon 
his  errand. 

The  dinner  hour  passed  delightfully,  and  there  was 
much  pleasant  talk,  although  the  news  of  the  capture 
of  Governor  Burke  and  of  the  battle  of  Cane  Creek 
cast  a  shadow  over  all  present,  for  all  were  strong 
adherents  to  the  Continental  cause  and  deplored  the 
misfortunes  that  had  befallen  them. 

"At  what  time  do  you  expect  Colonel  Paisly,  Rafe?" 
questioned  the  doctor. 

"He  reached  Sister  Ruth's  last  night.  Doctor,  and  I 
expect  them  both  here  at  any  moment;  we  shall  keep 
dinner   for  them." 

"That  being  so,  I  will  remain  until  they  come;  I  am 
so  anxious  to  hear  news  from  the  battle,  for  I  had  so 
many  friends  from  about  Hawfields  who  I  feel  sure 
were  in  it.  We  had  good  news  from  General  Greene 
to-day " 

The  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  a  loud 
knock  at  the  front  door;  and  exclaiming,  "There  they 
are,"  Aunt  Patsy,  followed  by  Rafe  Gordon,  excused 
themselves;  and  leaving  the  Doctor  and  Polly  Ruther- 
ford to  finish  their  dessert,  both  of  them  proceeded  to 
the  door  to  welcome  the  newly  arrived.  The  guests  in 
the  dining  room  heard  several  voices,  and  Polly  Ruther- 


158  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

ford's  quick  ear  recognized  the  sound  of  two,  each 
distinct  and  familiar,  that  sent  a  thrill  through  her 
heart,  and  a  rich  tide  flooded  her  cheeks,  while  tears 
were  not  far  away  from  her  tender  blue  eyes.  Fortu- 
nately, Dr.  Caldwell  was  so  absorbed  in  his  own 
thoughts  as  not  to  notice  the  agitated  girl,  so  she 
struggled  to  gain  the  mastery  of  her  feelings,  in  which 
she  was  not  aided  by  the  fragments  of  conversation 
that  came  to  her  from  the  hall.  ISIrs.  Gordon's  voice, 
in  loud,  hearty  tones,  could  be  heard  saying:  "Sister 
Ruth,  I  am  so  glad  to  welcome  you;  and  dear  John,  you 
are  the  same  sweet  old  fellow  you  ever  were.  Oh,  yes, 
Mr.  Stallings,  I  am  so  glad  to  meet  you;  from  Chatham, 
yes,  grand  old  county  is  Chatham,  and  some  of  my 
best  friends  dwell  there.  Now,  John,  you  cannot  guess 
who  I  have  here  to  help  me  entertain  you  gentlemen.'* 

"How  should  I,  Aunt  Patsy.'*  some  sweet  Buffalo  girl, 
I  am  quite  sure." 

"Nay,  nay;  you  are  far  away.  She  is  a  beauty,  a 
rare  beauty,  and  her  first  name  is  Polly." 

"Aunt  Patsy,  Luke  and  I  know  but  one  Polly;  there 
is  no  other.     Is  Miss  Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock  here?" 

"She  be.  Colonel  Paisly;  do  you  object?" 

"Nay,  verily,  Aunt  Patsy,  and  our  eyes  are  more 
hungry  for  a  sight  of  her  than  are  our  appetites  for 
your  good  dinner.'* 

"Then  you  shall  enjoy  both;  walk  right  into  the 
dining  room — there  you  will  find  Polly  and  the  dinner." 

Polly  arose  from  her  seat,  striving  hard  to  keep  down 
her  blushes.  She  received  a  kiss  from  Mrs.  Paisly,  and 
a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand  from  Colonel  Paisly,  who 
expressed  his  great  pleasure  in  meeting  her  again  with 
a  heartiness  that  assured  her  the  pleasure  was  genuine. 

"Really,   Miss   Scurlock,  this  is   an  unexpected,   al- 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS      159 

though  none  the  less  welcome,  surprise  for  us  to  meet 
you  and  dear  Dr.  Caldwell  at  Uncle  Rafe's.  Rest 
assured,  Luke  and  I  should  have  found  our  way  to 
the  parsonage  had  you  not  materialized  so  oppor- 
tunely," and  the  handsome  face  of  Colonel  John  Paisly 
was  radiant  with  happiness  as  he  spoke. 

Luke  waited  meekly  until  Mrs.  Paisly  and  Colonel 
John  had  greeted  the  Doctor  and  Polly  Rutherford, 
his  heart  hungry  for  one  loving  glance  from  Polly's 
eyes,  his  hand  eager  for  a  grasp  of  those  taper  fingers 
that  could  express  so  much  by  a  touch. 

Polly  had  before  her  two  lovers — the  one,  avowed 
and  accepted;  the  other  none  the  less  a  lover  because 
he  had  not  yet  spoken.  Shyly  she  glanced  up  into 
Colonel  Paisly's  eyes  as  she  received  his  warm  greet- 
ing; then,  turning  toward  Luke,  exclaimed  with  ani- 
mation : 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,  Luke;  when  did  you  see 
our  folks .^  and  how  are  all  my  friends?  The  sight  of 
you  makes  me  homesick,  Luke." 

"I  am  so  glad  to  see  you  looking  so  well,  Polly;  and 
you  mustn't  get  homesick  yet,  for  now  is  no  safe  time 
for  you  to  be  on  Brush  Creek,"  said  Luke  with  a 
bright  smile,  as  he  clasped  Polly's  hand.  "Oh,"  he  con- 
tinued, "you  asked  me  about  your  folks.  Colonel  Paisly 
and  I  left  Skin  Quarter  the  night  before  the  battle  at 
Cane  Creek,  and  that  is  something  over  a  week  ago. 
Daddy  and  Mammy  Scurlock  were  well,  and  they  have 
Roxy  Sowell  and  baby  staying  with  them  now.  Joel 
Sowell,  Charley  Sheering,  and  several  more  Brush 
Creek  boys   are  with  us." 

"Did  you  bring  me  a  letter  from  mammy,  Luke?" 
eagerly    questioned    Polly    Rutherford. 

"Indeed  I  did,  but — there  were  conditions  as  to  its 


160  THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

delivery  that  had  better  not  be  fulfilled  in  the  pres- 
ence of  so  many  witnesses/*  said  Luke  with  a  saucy 
smile. 

"Give  me  my  letter,  you  naughty  man,  and  trust  my 
honor  to  make  good  the  conditions/'  was  Polly's  an- 
swer, as,  blushing,  she  held  out  her  hand  expectantly. 

"A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the  bush.  Do 
you  think  I  had  better  deliver  the  letter,  Colonel 
Paisly-f^ — you  are  my  superior  officer,"  said  Luke,  as  he 
watched  the  lovely  face  turned  up  to  him  so  plead- 
ingly. 

"Very  much  depends  upon  the  conditions,  Luke;  but, 
putting  Miss  Scurlock  on  her  honor,  I  would  advise 
that  you  deliver  the  letter,  and,  should  she  fail  to 
render  due  compensation,  you  will  just  have  to  charge 
up  the  loss  as  our  quartermasters  do,  to  the  account  of 
'lost  and  abandoned  property.'  " 

"Most  righteous  judge!"  exclaimed  Polly  Rutherford 
as  she  turned  toward  Colonel  Paisly  with  a  profound 
bow.     "Now  will  you   give  me  my  letter,  Luke?" 

"Of  course  I  shall  do  as  the  Colonel  says;  and  I  am 
glad  to  learn  of  so  convenient  an  account  to  which  I 
can  charge  up  the  many  losses  Luke  Stallings  has  met 
with;  so  here  is  your  letter,  Polly.  It  is  worth  a  lot; 
I  carried  it  through  the  battle  right  next  to  my  heart." 

"The  battle ! — yes,  the  battle,"  exclaimed  Dr.  Cald- 
well. "While  you  are  both  dispatching  dinner,  do  tell 
us  about  that  battle,  for  I  had  so  many  friends  in  it. 
Was  Colonel  Robert  Mebane  there?" 

"Yes,  indeed  he  was,"  and  Paisly  became  very  ani- 
mated. "A  more  intrepid  spirit  I  never  saw.  Doctor, 
than  Colonel  Robert  Mebane.  He  was  almost  ubiqui- 
tous in  the  fight — here,  there,  everywhere;  and  once, 
when  Fanning  made  a  desperate  charge  and  attacked 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS      161 

us  in  the  rear,  there  would  possibly  have  been  a  rout 
but  for  Mebane.  He  held  the  men  even  when  General 
Butler  thought  it  prudent  to  order  a  retreat.  You 
ought  to  have  seen  him.  Doctor,  walking  down  our  lines 
with  his  hat  full  of  powder,  saying,  'Help  yourselves, 
boys,  and  give  it  to  them.'  He  was  as  cool  (I  mean  col- 
lected, for  it  was  a  hot  day  in  more  ways  than  one)  as 
if  we  had  been  on  dress  parade;  and,  with  face  all 
smeared  with  perspiration  and  powder,  he  just  held 
our  men  by  sheer  force  of  will  and  example,  in  the 
midst  of  deadly  peril.  Brave  Major  John  Nails  and 
Colonel  Lutteral  were  both  slain,  and  we  lost  other 
brave  and  true  men  our  cause  can  ill  afford  to  spare. 
My  little  company  can  claim  the  credit  of  temporarily 
disabling  the  notorious  David  Fanning;  one  of  my  men, 
Charley  Sheering,  whom  Fanning  had  tried  some  time 
previously  to  slay  (wounding  him  sorely),  discovered 
Fanning  in  that  desjDcrate  charge  he  was  making,  and 
Sheering's  trusty  rifle  soon  sent  Fanning  to  the  rear 
with  a  broken  arm.  The  scoundrel  must  have  worn 
some  bullet  protector,  for  Sheering  aimed  to  pierce  his 
cruel  heart,  but  only  succeeded  in  winging  him.  God 
was  very  good  to  us  in  sparing  our  men,  although  they 
were  in  the  thick  of  the  fight.  A  few  scratches  here 
and  there,  one  broken  arm,  and  Luke  here  was  struck 
on  the  head  with  a  spent  ball.  He  must  be  a  hard- 
headed  fellow.  Miss  Scurlock — the  ball  only  made  a 
scalp  wound.  A  soft-headed  fellow  would  have  re- 
ceived a  mortal  wound." 

"Poor  Mr.  Stallings !"  exclaimed  Aunt  Betsy.  "We 
are  all  through  dinner,  so  that  wound  must  be  looked 
after  immediately.  He  has  been  in  the  hot  sun  all  day, 
and  I  know  he  needs  attention." 

The  chairs  were  moved  back  froon  the  table  and  the 


162  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

company  arose,  Rafe  Gordon  taking  Dr.  Caldwell  and 
Colonel  Paisly  and  his  mother  into  the  drawing-room, 
while  Aunt  Patsy  and  Polly  Rutherford  invited  Luke 
to  follow  them  out  into  a  tidy  little  room  adjoining  the 
kitchen,  called  the  "laundry,"  where  a  noggin  of  warm 
water  and  towels  were  soon  in  readiness. 

"Now,  Polly  darling,  you  just  go  and  read  your 
letter  or  talk  with  the  folks;  you  are  not  accustomed 
to  this  kind  of  work,"  said  Aunt  Patsy. 

"It  is  high  time  I  were,  Mrs.  Gordon,"  said  Polly; 
"and  I  must  see  if  Luke  is  much  hurt,  so  I  will  help 
you." 

"Well,  child,  if  you  wanted  to  learn,  you  should  have 
been  here  after  the  battle  of  Guilford  Court  House; 
I  dressed  wounds  then  until  an  old  surgeon  told  me  I 
was  the  equal  of  any  of  them.  Nevertheless,  we  will 
now  begin.  I  will  give  you  your  first  lesson.  Take 
that  soft  linen  rag  and  dip  it  in  the  warm  water,  then 
sponge  off  the  wound  until  the  dressing  adhering  to  it 
comes  away.     There;  that  will  do  nicely." 

"Oh,  Luke!"  exclaimed  Polly,  "what  a  hole  it  is; 
does  it  pain  you  much?" 

"Only  a  dull  aching  and  soreness,  Polly;  I  need  rest 
and  quiet.  The  ride  from  Chatham  has  been  a  little 
too  much  and  has  aggravated  what  would  otherwise 
have  been  a  slight  wound.  Then  I  had  not  quite  re- 
covered from  the  gunshot  wound  I  had  in  my  arm;  your 
mother  has  written  you  all  about  that." 

"Poor  Luke!  you  must  have  rest  at  Dr.  Caldwell's 
a  few  days;  and  Mrs.  Gordon  shall  teach  me  how  to 
nurse  you  and  get  you  strong  again." 

"That  I  will,  darling,"  and  Mrs.  Gordon  now  pro- 
ceeded to  spread  a  new  dressing  of  a  healing  salve  her 
own  deft  hands   had  compounded,  and  which  she  had 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS      163 

used  for  the  relief  of  many  a  wounded  soldier.  The 
thorough  cleansing  of  the  wound  and  the  soothing  ap- 
plication gave  Luke  great  relief;  and  Mrs.  Gordon  in- 
sisted that  he  should  go  immediately  to  his  room  and 
rest  until  evening. 

Poor  fellow!  he  was  worn  and  weary,  for  he  had 
gone  into  the  battle  of  Cane  Creek  when  scarcely  more 
than  half  recovered  from  the  gunshot  wounds  of  Walk- 
er, and  had  only  been  kept  up  by  the  excitement  of 
the  past  ten  days.  So  he  gladly  heeded  the  tender, 
gracious  tones  of  Aunt  Patsy  Gordon  as  she  said: 

"Now,  Polly  Rutherford,  you  can  go  into  my  room 
or  yours  (they  open  into  each  other)  and  read  your 
letter;  I  will  show  Mr.  Stallings  to  his  room  and  see 
that  he  is  quite  comfortable;  come  on,  Mr.   Stallings." 

Luke  followed  the  heavy  footsteps  of  Aunt  Patsy 
as  she  toiled  up  a  flight  of  steps,  and  soon  found  him- 
self in  a  large  chamber  with  two  luxurious  beds ;  and 
near  the  front  window  was  a  soft  lounge  with  a  pretty, 
bright,  woven  quilt,  and  a  light,  fleecy,  goose-down 
spread  folded  and  lying  across  it.  "Now,  Mr.  Stal- 
lings, you  can  either  retire  or  rest  on  this  lounge,  and 
if  you  do  not  feel  like  coming  down  to  supper  this 
evening,  I  will  bring  your  supper  to  you,"  urged  Aunt 
Patsy;  "for  you  must  keep  quiet;  that  wound  is  just 
over  your  brain,  and  you  have  neglected  proper  atten- 
tion to  it." 

"Thanks,  my  dear  madam;  I  shall  be  delightfully 
comfortable  here,  and  hope  I  will  be  quite  equal  to 
coming  down  to  supper,"  and  Luke  gladly  stretched 
his  weary  body  upon  the  lounge,  and,  although  his  brain 
was  disposed  to  lay  an  embargo  upon  sleep,  exhaustion 
demanded  the  sweet  restorer,  and  he  was  soon  sleeping 
too  profoundly  to  indulge  in  dreaming. 


164  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

Aunt  Patsy,  on  returning  from  Luke's  room,  found 
Polly  Rutherford  still  in  her  own  room  and  engaged 
in  reading  her  mother's  letter. 

"Why,  Mandy  must  have  written  quite  an  epistle, 
Polly  darling;  and  I  do  know  you  are  precious  glad  to 
get  it.  It  is  so  hard  in  these  war  times  to  hear  from 
one's  friends.  \Miy,  do  you  know,  it  is  sometimes  more 
than  two  months  that  I  neither  see  nor  hear  from 
Sister  Ruth,  and  she  lives  a  trifle  less  than  fifteen 
miles  away." 

"Oh,  it  is  just  dreadful,  Mrs.  Gordon;  and  mammy's 
letter  makes  me  so  homesick;  but  she  says  they  are 
living  in  fear  of  their  lives,  and  she  would  not  have 
me  come  home  yet,  for  it  is  really  not  safe.  Several  of 
our  neighbors  have  been  driven  from  their  homes,  and 
everything  that  would  burn  given  to  the  flames.  I  am 
uneasy  about  daddy  all  the  time,  for  some  of  Farming's 
gang  hate  him  and  would  delight  to  destroy  everything 
he  has,  but  they  fear  his  influence  in  the  Province." 

"Cheer  up,  child;  'tis  a  dark  night,  indeed,  that  has 
no  dawn;  and  when  our  morning  breaks  we  shall  see  a 
bright  sun  shining  down  upon  a  free  and  happy  people. 
Come  along  and  let  us  join  the  Paislys  and  brother 
Caldwell." 

As  they  entered  the  drawing-room.  Colonel  Paisly 
was  speaking,  and  Polly  Rutherford  heard  him  say: 

"He  is  a  noble  young  man.  Doctor;  as  true,  brave, 
and  dependable  as  any  man  in  our  army.  If  he  had 
enj  oyed  the  opportimities  you  gave  me,  I  could  not  hope 
to  excel  him;  and  if  he  lives  and  the  war  continues,  he 
will  fight  his  way  up  and  fill  any  position  he  wins.  I 
only  fear  his  reckless  bravery  will  make  him  an  early 
sacrifice  to  our  cause.  At  Cane  Creek  he  was  reck- 
lessly brave,  and  his  stalwart  arm  brought  down  several 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS       165 

Tory  riders  and  rolled  them  in  the  dust  before  our  eyes. 
Yes,  Luke  Stallings  was  born  a  soldier." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  such  praise  of  this  young  man, 
John,  for  somehow  I  have  taken  a  great  liking  to  him." 

"How  is  it  with  you,  Polly  darling?"  questioned 
Aunt  Patsy,  as  she  smiled  into  the  flushed  face  and 
bright  eyes  of  her  young  friend. 

"Of  course  I  like  him,  Mrs.  Gordon;  Luke  used  to 
fight  all  my  battles  at  school,  and  has  carried  me  in  his 
arms  many  a  time  over  a  muddy  place  in  the  road;  has 
caught  many  a  June  bug  for  me,  and  once  brought  me  a 
whole  bottleful  of  lightning  bugs." 

And  Polly  s  face  wore  a  quizzical  smile  as  her  eyes 
met  the  earnest  gaze  of  Colonel  Paisly.  She  looked 
very  innocent,  and  her  careless  way  of  commending 
Luke  would  have  deceived  any  of  her  auditors  but  the 
one  she  intended  to  keep  from  knowing  too  much.  She 
little  knew  that  Colonel  Paisly  already  possessed  the 
secret  of  her  engagement  to  Luke. 

Dr.  Caldwell  here  put  in  a  word  of  commendation, 
saying,  "He  seems  to  be  a  young  man  of  decided  char- 
acter, and  Polly  would  discover  in  him  an  entomologist 
of  no  mean  pretensions,  so  he  must  be  vastly  out  of  the 
ordinary";  and  the  searching  eyes  of  the  Doctor 
twinkled  with  fun  as  he  turned  toward  Polly.  Then 
he  asked,  "How  did  you  find  his  wound,  sister  Patsy  .^" 

"I  am  so  glad  you  asked.  Doctor,  for  I  was  going 
to  have  you  look  at  it  before  you  went  home;  the 
young  man  has  lacked  proper  attention,  and  there  is 
need  of  careful  treatment,  I  think." 

"Why,  Luke  has  made  so  light  of  his  injury  him- 
self, Aunt  Paisly,  I  thought  it  was  a  trifle,"  said  Colo- 
nel Paisly. 

"Indeed  it  is  no  trifle,  John — a  hole  in  your  head  as 


166  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

big  as  a  guinea  o^gg  is  no  trifle;  and  Mr.  Stallings 
ought  to  have  at  least  two  weeks'  absolute  rest  before 
he  resumes  active  duty  again.  He  was  sleeping  just 
now,  and  when  he  wakes  up  I  want  the  Doctor  to  see 
him." 

"Let  him  sleep,  he  needs  rest;  and  when  he  wakes 
will  be  time  enough  for  me  to  see  him,  for  my  old  mare 
will  then  easily  jog  me  home  between  sunset  and  star- 
light," said  the  Doctor. 

The  conversation  then  turned  upon  the  future  move- 
ments of  the  troop  Colonel  Paisly  had  recruited. 

"Whither  will  you  go,  John.^*  I  heard  only  to-day 
good  news  from  General  Greene,  and  he  has  given  the 
British  a  royal  flogging  at  Eutaw  Springs,  capturing 
about  eleven  hundred  prisoners.  British  power  is  about 
broken  in  South  Carolina,  I  am  thinking,"  were  the 
cheery  words  of  Dr.  Caldwell. 

"That  is  glorious  news,  Doctor;  of  course  I  shall 
report  to  General  Greene,  and  shall  then  ask  for  a 
transfer,  with  my  little  command,  to  the  Virginia  army, 
if  we  are  not  likely  to  have  very  active  work  in  South 
Carolina." 

"That  would  be  wise,  John,  for  everything  now  points 
to  a  very  decisive  closing  of  this  year's  campaign  in 
Virginia.  There  will  be  a  herculean  struggle  there, 
and  General  Washington  and  General  La  Fayette  will 
need  every  man  that  can  be  spared  from  plough  and 
workshop.  We  should  never  forget,  John,  King's  Moun- 
tain and  Colonel  Campbell.  The  Virginians  stood  shoul- 
der to  shoulder  with  the  men  of  the  Carolinas  on  that 
day,  and  now,  when  a  supreme  effort  is  to  be  made  to 
end  this  struggle  and  gain  our  independence,  let  Vir- 
ginian sod  be  as  sacred  as  our  o\vn." 

"Yes,    Doctor,    we   be    brethren,    and,    should    I    be 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO    VISITORS      167 

called  to  yield  up  my  life  in  this  cause^  it  matters  not 
whether  the  moment  of  sacrifice  comes  in  Carolina  or 
Virginia.  I  trust  John  Paisly  will  be  ready,  and  I 
have  not  a  man  under  me  who  does  not  feel  as  I  do." 

"You  have  a  choice  company,  John;  and  I  shall  fol- 
low you  all  with  my  benediction  and  prayers;  and  my 
faith  in  the  justice  of  our  cause,  and  in  the  never-failing 
help  of  God,  grows  stronger  each  day.  But  while  we 
are  talking  the  day  wanes;  sister  Patsy,  suppose  you 
see  if  young  Stallings  be  awake,  for  I  should  soon  be 
wending  homeward." 

The  rotund  figure  of  Aunt  Patsy  disappeared  from 
the  drawing-room,  followed  by  Polly  Rutherford,  her 
voice  replying  as  she  made  haste  slowly: 

"I  won't  keep  you  waiting.  Doctor;  Stallings  is  doubt- 
less awake,  for  he  spoke  of  getting  up  in  time  for 
supper." 

Dr.  Caldwell  soon  heard  Aunt  Patsy  calling,  "Dr. 
Caldwell,  come  up  to  the  front  room,  and  tell  Polly 
Rutherford  to  fetch  those  linen  cloths  and  a  noggin 
of  warm  water." 

They  found  Luke  Stallings  reclining  upon  the  couch, 
quite  awake,  but  seemingly  little  disposed  to  stir  about; 
and  Dr.  Caldwell  soon  discovered  that  his  temperature 
was  high,  and  an  excited  pulse  gave  evidence  of  high 
fever. 

"Ho,  young  man !"  exclaimed  the  Doctor.  "You  have 
been  undertaking  too  much,  and  have  taken  too  little 
care  of  yourself.  How  often  has  this  wound  been 
dressed  on  your  way  from  Chatham?" 

"Not  once.  Doctor;  there  was  no  one  whom  I  could 
trust  to  handle  it."    ^ 

"Tut!  tut!  what  a  shame;  you  had  better  have  under- 
taken to  handle  it  yourself  than  to  have  let  it  inflame 


168  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

and  get  you  into  this  fix.  What  preparation  is  this  I 
have  just  removed,  sister  Patsy?" 

"Oh,  that  is  some  of  the  salve  you  so  kindly  showed 
me  how  to  prepare,  just  before  the  battle  of  Guilford 
Court  House,  Doctor.  It  has  healed  many  a  poor  fel- 
low's wounds." 

"There  is  nothing  better  known  to  pharmaceutics, 
sister  Patsy;  spread  me  another  dressing,  and  take  your 
gentle  fingers,  Polly,  my  daughter,  and  bathe  that 
wound  thoroughly  with  tepid  soapsuds.  With  three 
surgeons,  you  should  soon  vastly  improve.  Master  Luke 
Stallings;  do  you  not  think  so?"  and  the  gentle  Doctor 
looked  down  into  the  face  of  his  patient  with  a  loving 
smile. 

"Indeed  I  should.  Doctor;  and  it  is  worth  one's  while 
to  get  off  of  his  pins  occasionally  to  enjoy  such  an  ex- 
perience, such  a  luxury  as  this;"  for  Polly  was  tenderly 
bathing  his  head. 

"Well,  if  you  like  it  you  may  luxuriate,  certainly  not 
less  than  two  weeks;  it  may  be  longer,  for  you  are 
in  no  shape,  young  man,  to  take  the  field." 

"Now,  isn't  that  just  what  we  said,  Polly  Ruther- 
ford?" exclaimed  Aunt  Patsy.  "Now,  Mr.  Luke  Stal- 
lings, just  consider  yourself  our  prisoner,  and  we  will 
not  release  you  until  our  good  Doctor  says  the  word." 

"Is  Polly  Rutherford  to  be  warden?"  questioned  the 
Doctor  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye.  "If  so,"  he 
ladded,  "perhaps  Master  Luke  will  remain  a  prisoner." 

"In  one  sense,  I  have  always  been  Polly  Ruther- 
ford's prisoner,  Doctor;  but  Luke  Stallings  must  not 
enjoy  even  the  luxury  of  this  captivity  when  his  country 
needs  him.  So  you  must  get  me  healed  as  quickly  as 
surgery  can  do  it,  although  the  healing  takes  me  away 
from  sweet  bondage." 


POLLY  RECEIVES   TWO   VISITORS      169 

At  this  plain  avowal  Polly  Rutherford's  soft  cheeks 
grew  crimson,  her  bright  eyes  flashed,  and  she  turned  in 
an  abashed  way  from  the  interested  gaze  of  the  Doctor 
and  Aunt  Patsy,  as  she  said  a  little  impatiently: 

"Oh,  hush,  Luke!  If  you  talk  that  way,  I  shall  use 
all  my  skill  to  get  your  head  straight  as  speedily  as 
possible;  you  are  too  publicly  pronounced  in  your  sen- 
timents, for  my  comfort." 

A  hearty  laugh  from  the  doctor,  in  which  he  was 
joined  by  Aunt  Patsy,  but  added  to  Polly  Rutherford's 
confusion;  and  then,  concluding  that  she  had  performed 
her  part  in  the  surgery  for  this  occasion,  she  hastily 
withdrew. 

"There,  now !"  exclaimed  the  Doctor,  "we  have  played 
the  mischief,  sister  Patsy;  the  girl  seems  quite  touchy, 
Master  Luke." 

"It  is  strange  behavior  fo'  Polly  Rutherford,  Doctor, 
and  I  do  not  altogether  understand  it.  She  seemed  to 
be  mortified  at  the  idea  that  I  should  express  my  true 
sentiments  toward  her  in  the  presence  of  her  Guilford 
friends,  when  we  have  been  engaged  ever  since  before 
she  left  Chatham.  She  may  be  sure  I  shall  not  offend 
her  in  like  manner  again." 

"Do  nothing  rashly.  Master  Luke;  girls  have  their 
ideas  as  to  when  and  where  men  should  make  known 
such  secrets;  and  we  must  respect  even  what  may  seem 
to  us  a  prudish  idea." 

"I  am  a  very  plain  man.  Doctor;  had  no  chances, 
just  grew  up  so;  but  there  is  no  policy  about  me,  and  I 
can  no  more  help  showing  that  I  love  Polly  Rutherford 
than  I  could  turn  a  lot  of  sunbeams  into  a  snowball. 
If  she  don't  like  that,  it  just  shows  that  she  does  not 
love  in  the  s^me  way  that  I  do,  and  there's  an  end  of 
it.     I  doubt  not  that  Polly  has  somewhat  changed  her 


170  THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

mind,  and  heart,  too,  for  that  matter,  since  she  came  to 
Guilford." 

"That  does  not  follow,  Master  Luke;  I  am  very  sure 
no  young  man  around  Buffalo  has  made  any  impression 
upon  Polly.  You  must  rest  here  with  sister  Patsy  a 
few  days,  and  then  come  over  and  finish  out  your  visit 
at  the  parsonage;  by  that  time  I  think  Polly  will  have 
forgiven  you  for  having  told  her  secret  in  your  matter- 
of-fact  way.  Now,  you  are  all  comfortable  for  the 
night,  having  taken  your  bolus;  rest  quietly  and  don't 
worry;  good  night;"  and  the  dear  Doctor  pressed 
Luke's  hand,  and,  followed  by  Aunt  Patsy,  left  the  room. 

On  reaching  the  drawing-room,  the  Doctor  and  Aunt 
Patsy  found  Polly  Rutherford  all  animation,  and  en- 
gaged in  a  lively  discussion  with  Colonel  Paisly  upon 
constancy — the  virtue  lacking  or  abounding  in  woman. 
The  Colonel  professed  to  have  just  a  little  faith  in 
woman's  constancy  in  the  abstract,  but  averred  that 
woman  en  masse  could  not  be  trusted  to  cling  to  one 
love  through  thick  and  thin,  but,  like  wandering  stars, 
they  were  ever  seeking  a  new  orbit. 

"Fie!  fie!  Colonel  Paisly,"  exclaimed  Polly;  "that  I 
should  ever  find  so  hopeless  a  heretic  in  so  seemingly 
proper  a  gentleman.  Women  are  more  faithful  than 
men,  sir;  and  those  wandering  stars  of  which  you 
speak  are  generally  of  the  masculine  gender;  is  that 
not  so,  Doctor  Caldwell?" 

"Yes,  if  you  say  so,  Polly;  why,  John  Paisly,  I 
wouldn't  give  the  love  of  my  Rebecca  for  me  in  ex- 
change for  the  crown  of  King  George.  Wish  I  had 
time  to  follow  out  the  argument;  you,  sister  Patsy,  and 
Rafe  must  help  Polly  out.  Good  night  to  all;"  and 
giving  Polly  a  loving  kiss  and  a  pat  on  each  rosy  cheek, 
the  Doctor  was  soon  jogging  homeward. 


CHAPTER    XV 


UNDER     WHICH      KINGT 


Every  woman  clothes  in  the  purple  of  royalty  her 
ideal  of  manhood,,  and  many  seek  in  vain  for  an  ideal 
who  shall  worthily  wear  these  ready-made  garments. 
To  many  women  it  is  granted  to  realize  much  of  what 
they  hoped  for^  and  the  bridegroom  becomes  to  them  a 
veritable  king  worthy  of  their  love  and  loyalty.  To 
others,  the  man  whom  their  fancy  has  clothed  in  the 
purple,  and  to  whom  they  gave  their  all  of  love  and 
loyalty,  turns  out  but  a  piece  of  glazed  pottery  that, 
tumbling  from  the  lofty  pedestal  upon  which  maidenly 
devotion  has  placed  it,  is  shattered  and  scattered,  dust 
to  dust.  There  are  times,  also,  in  the  life  of  every 
maiden,  when  more  than  one  king  strives  to  bear  away 
the  jewel  of  her  undivided  affection,  and  she  sadly 
lacks,  for  the  time,  the  intuitive  power  to  decide  under 
the  standard  of  which  king  she  shall  unfurl  the  pure 
white  banner  of  her  love. 

Was  Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock,  the  sunny  maiden 
who  had  never  felt  a  real  heart  sorrow,  just  entering 
into  (through  no  seeking  of  her  own)  the  shadow  of 
a  heart  trial.''  Was  she  to  contend  with  doubts,  fears, 
and  to  lay  herself  under  the  grave  charge  of  disloy- 
alty.'* Other  maidens  have  passed  along  that  way,  and 
Polly,  although  bright  and  pure  as  gold,  was  human, 
and  must  fain  meet  with  thorns  even  among  the  roses 

171 


172  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

of  life.  We  can  only  follow  and  tell  the  story  as  it 
came  about. 

Luke,  as  the  sun  sank  low  and  the  shadows  of  the 
trees  seen  from  his  windows  grew  long,  lay  upon  his 
bed  with  aching  head  and  throbbing  heart,  for  Polly 
Rutherford  had  sore  wounded  his  sensitive  heart,  and 
he  began  to  think  it  had  been  well  if  the  spent  ball  had 
come  with  more  force  and  ended  it  all.  His  eyes  were 
dim  with  a  briny  mist,  and  his  lips  murmured  a  low 
soliloquy. 

"Oh,  Polly,  my  darling,  you  have  filled  my  heart; 
you  are  the  only  bright  hope  in  my  poor  life.  Now  I 
am  to  lose  you,  and  I  cannot  live  and  bear  it.  I  know 
Colonel  Paisly  is  the  soul  of  honor  and  will  not  woo 
you  with  his  lips  now;  but  his  eyes  tell  you  of  his  un- 
spoken love,  and  I  am  in  the  way  of  your  happiness  and 
of  his.  Oh,  Father,  give  me  strength  to  meet  this  blow, 
and,  if  it  be  Thy  will,  let  the  next  battle  claim  me  as 
a  sacrifice  for  my  country  and  a  trophy  of  redeeming 
grace." 

"Poor  fellow !  no  one  to  keep  you  company,  so  you 
are  talking  to  yourself." 

It  was  the  cheery  voice  of  Aunt  Patsy,  who  had 
toiled  up  the  flight  of  stairs  to  look  after  her  "poor 
wounded  soldier,"  as  she  called  Luke,  and  to  bring 
him  his  supper.  "I  should  have  been  up  before,  Mr. 
Stallings,  but  hoped  you  were  sleeping;  how  do  you 
feel.?" 

"Much  depressed,  Mrs.  Gordon;  I  have  a  queer  sen- 
sation about  my  head,  my  nerves  are  in  a  quiver,  and  it 
is  such  a  hopeless  kind  of  combination,  I  am  not  sure 
that  my  brain  is  not  seriously  affected." 

"Mr.  Stallings,  you  should  have  told  Dr.  Caldwell 
about  that  goneness." 


UNDER    WHICH  KING?  17S 

"He  knew  of  my  nervous  state^  madam,  and  I  think 
there  is  an  opiate  in  that  bolus  I  have  taken;  when  I 
get  fully  under  its  influence  I  shall  sleep.  Oh,  to 
sleep !  Mrs.  Gordon,  'tis  the  sweetest  boon  given  to 
man  when  in  trouble;  he  can  then  forget." 

"Poor,  dear  man !  you  are  grieving  over  what  Polly 
Rutherford  said;  don't  let  the  foolish  words  of  a  girl 
rob  you  of  the  sleep  you  must  have,  and  don't  talk 
about  it.  I  will  bring  you  a  hop  pillow,  and  soon 
you  will  be  in  dreamland,  and  can  have  respite  from 
this  world's  troubles  for  a  while;  but  now  eat  your 
supper." 

Mrs.  Gordon  soon  returned  with  the  pillow,  and  ad- 
justing it  under  Luke's  head,  she  sat  by  him,  holding 
his  hand  and  gently  stroking  it  with  her  own  soft  palm, 
until  he  passed  off  into  a  quiet,  restful  sleep. 

In  the  drawing-room  and  at  the  supper  table,  the 
discussion  between  Colonel  Paisly  and  Polly  Ruther- 
ford had  continued;  the  Colonel  had  never  been  more 
winning  or  entertaining,  while  Polly  Rutherford  dis- 
played flashes  of  wit,  humor,  and  argumentative  abil- 
ity that  proved  an  astonishment  to  the  Colonel;  and 
their  bright  sallies  were  a  source  of  mirthful  enter- 
tainment to  all  present.  Only  once  did  Aunt  Patsy 
remonstrate,  as  a  witty  remark  of  Polly's  caused  rather 
loud  and  merry  laughter. 

"Not  so  loud,  good  friends;  poor  Mr.  Stallings  has 
just  been  suffering  with  a  pain  in  his  head,  and  I  had 
no  end  of  trouble  to  get  him  to  sleep;  please  don't 
waken  him." 

"Thank  you,  Aunt  Patsy,  for  telling  us,"  said  the 
Colonel.  "Poor  Luke !  I  am  so  sorry  that  wound  of 
his  was  so  neglected." 

"You  may  well  be,  John;  it's  too  near  his  brain  not 


174  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

to  be  serious.  I  feared  to-night  he  was  going  to  be 
delirious";  and  Aunt  Patsy  gave  Polly  Rutherford  an 
earnest  look,  for  she  wished  to  see  the  effect  of  her 
words. 

Polly  found  that  the  Colonel's  eyes  were  also  gazing 
at  her;  and  she  felt  the  warm  flow  of  blood  as  it  richly 
colored  her  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  grew  dim,  refusing 
even  a  glance  at  either  Aunt  Patsy  or  the  Colonel.  At 
last  she  said  softlv: 

"Do  you  think  Luke  is  dangerously  hurt,  Mrs.  Gor- 
don?" 

"The  hurt  is  not  dangerous  in  itself,  Polly,  but  the 
neglect  has  brought  about  inflammation,  and  Mr.  Stal- 
lings  needs  tender  handling,  child,  and  should  in  no 
wav  be  excited.  You  will  have  to  leave  him  behind 
you,  John,  until  he  is  better,  or  I  would  not  like  to 
answer  for  consequences.  I  am  going  to  keep  him  here 
a  few  davs,  and  then  Dr.  Caldwell  wishes  him  to  come 
over  to  the  parsonage  and  stay  until  he  is  quite  well." 

'The  leave  will  be  granted  with  great  pleasure.  Aunt 
Patsy.  I  value  Luke  so  highly  that  nothing  I  can  do 
for  his  restoration  shall  be  lacking;  I  shall  miss  him 
sorely,  but  he  must  stay  where  I  know  he  will  have 
tender  and  watchful  care";  and  Colonel  Paisly  gave 
Polly  Rutherford  a  smile  and  a  look  that  she  after- 
wards understood. 

One  by  one  the  drawing-room  lost  its  tenants,  until 
Polly  Rutherford  found  herself  alone  with  Colonel  John 
Paisly,  and  listening  to  him  as  he  eloquently  pictured 
to  her  his  ideal  of  true  love,  and  the  sacrifices  he  would 
be  willing  to  make  for  one  who  had  taken  possession 
of  his  heart  and  should  henceforth  share  his  life. 

"Not  that  I  claim  to  be  better  than  my  fellows.  Miss 
Polly  Rutherford,  either  by  nature  or  by  practice;  but 


UNDER    WHICH  KING?  175 

I  think  there  is  just  a  trifle  less  selfishness  in  me  than 
in  the  average  man.  Men  are,  as  a  class_,  more  selfish 
than  women;  they  love  power,  wealth,  ease,  human 
comfort;  and  wish  to  procure  all  these  with  as  little 
trouble  and  toil  as  possible.  While  I,  too,  love  these 
things,  there  is  something,  there  is  someone  somewhere 
I  could  love  more  than  they  all,  should  I  ever  find  a 
woman  whose  heart  was  free,  and  who  filled  every 
fibre  of  my  being  with  the  magic  of  that  undefinable 
something  people  call  'love.'  I  believe  there  is  no 
definition  of  that  word  'love'  that  gives  one  an  exact 
idea  of  what  it  means,  of  what  it  really  is.  Love  is 
an  experience  differing  in  each  individual  case,  and 
interpreting  itself  only  to  those  who  become  subject 
to  its  subtle  power.  Love  sometimes  comes  like  the  tiny 
beams  of  light  at  early  dawn — growing,  expanding, 
until  they  fill  the  heavens  and  earth  with  a  flood  of 
glory.  Love  sometimes  comes  like  the  soft  blowing 
of  the  south  wind,  bearing  the  fragrance  of  tropical 
flowers  and  filling  the  hearts  of  men  and  women  with 
much  of  its  own  softness  and  sweetness.  Love  some- 
times comes  like  a  resistless  tidal  wave,  and  sweeping 
awav  all  barriers,  asserts  control  over  two  lives  even 
when  the  love  it  brings  is  tinged  with  unfaithfulness 
somewhere,  and  an  uneasy  conscience  which  will  not 
down  at  the  bidding  of  its  deluded  victims." 

"You  speak  so  eloquently.  Colonel  Paisly,  upon  this 
subject,  surely  you  have  realized  a  happy  experience 
and  can  tell  me  more  of  this  subtle  thing  than  I  should 
ever  dream  of  knowing,"  said  Polly,  as  she  looked  into 
the  Colonel's  bright  face  with  an  innocent  smile. 

"Thus  far  I  am  a  theorist  only.  Miss  Polly,  and 
have  never  paid  such  homage  as  a  whole-hearted  sur- 
render to  any  woman.     That  I  could  do  so  I  am  quite 


176  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

sure,  were  the  occasion  fully  ripe,  and  I  know  enough 
of  my  own  heart  to  be  able  to  say  even  in  advance  how 
soft  a  Benedict  I  could  become,  were  my  love  not  only 
welcomed  but  reciprocated." 

"Nothing  venture,  nothing  win.  Colonel,  if  you  have 
such  an  exuberant  faith  in  this  subtle  thing  called 
*love,'  why  not  make  a  venture?" 

"My  honor  will  not  let  me.  Miss  Polly;  these  are  not 
times  when  men  may  win  the  love  of  women  and  wed 
at  pleasure,  for  every  true  man  in  this  crisis  belongs 
first  to  his  country.  Then,  I  will  further  explain  my 
position  by  an  incident.  Suppose  you  had  a  dear  friend 
whom  you  suspected  to  be  plighted  to  a  fair  woman 
whom  up  to  a  certain  period  in  life  you  had  never  met. 
Suppose  you  should  finally  meet  the  young  woman  in 
an  unexpected  way,  and  after  many  delightful  inter- 
views you  should  make  two  discoveries:  first,  that  she 
was  really  the  betrothed  of  another;  and  last,  but  not 
least,  that  she  was  stealing  away  your  heart.  Now, 
Miss  Polly,  what  is  a  man's  duty  in  such  a  case.''" 

"I  am  not  a  man.  Colonel,"  said  Polly  mischievously. 

"But,  my  dear  girl,  you  should  know  how  an  honor- 
able man  should  act?" 

"Well,  I  suppose  he  should  go  away  and  let  the  pair 
of  loving  hearts  be,  even  if  there  might  have  been  a 
possibility  of  a  change  in  his  favor;  but  there  are  not 
many  men  that  would  do  that.  Colonel." 

"And  for  that  the  women  are  to  blame.  Miss  Polly; 
were  I  a  woman  and  pledged  to  a  man  in  all  ways 
worthy,  no  other  suppliant  lover  should  dare  approach 
so  sacred  a  thing  as  my  plighted  heart.  I  might  love 
ever  so  tenderly  and  not  be  able  to  still  my  heart  as  I 
draw  near  to  the  beloved,  but  there  are  circumstances 
that  would  still  my  tongue,  and  I  had  rather  lose  a  love 


UNDER   WHICH  KING?  177 

I  should  value  above  rubies,  than  win  it  at  the  cost 
of  broken  faith." 

Polly  Rutherford's  eyes  drooped,  and  her  cheeks  grew 
warm,  for  she  felt  a  blush  coming;  still,  she  was  tempted 
to  hear  the  Colonel  further  on  the  subject  of  love,  for 
no  one  had  ever  so  interested  her  before  in  a  general 
way. 

"So  you  think  no  woman  should  ever  change  her 
mind,  Colonel.^"  she  asked  naively. 

"Every  woman  should  know  her  own  mind,  and, 
above  all,  know  her  own  heart,  my  dear  girl.  This 
loving  and  plighting  is  so  serious  that  vows  should 
never  be  lightly  spoken,  and  rarely  rudely  broken.  The 
woman  who  once  pledges  to  me  her  heart,  her  life,  I 
shall  expect  to  redeem  that  pledge  at  the  altar;  and  I 
should  be  slow  to  offer  homage  to  any  woman  who  had 
broken  faith  with  a  worthy  man." 

"Women,  Colonel,  are  creatures  of  environment;  they 
live  in  their  little  world,  and  many  rarely  leave  the 
country  neighborhood  in  which  they  were  reared.  They 
have  often  no  choice  but  to  be  the  choice  of  the  best 
man  they  have  ever  seen.  That  choice  is  often  wise  and 
good,  and  brings  much  happiness  into  what  may  else 
have  been  a  solitary  life  of  celibacy.  Do  not  censure 
women  too  severely  who  may  for  wise  reasons  some- 
times recall  a  pledge  that  in  a  moment  of  grateful 
friendly  feeling  they  have  made  to  a  worthy  young 
man.  I  am  pleading  for  my  sex  in  general.  Colonel; 
and  remember,  we  are  discussing  this  whole  subject 
philosophically — if  this  subtle  thing  can  be  handled 
that  way." 

"Your  sex  have  an  able  advocate,  Miss  Polly;  and 
you  have  indeed  pictured  a  strong  case.  I  do  not  say 
a  girl  should  never  change  her  mind,  even   when  she 


178  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  BED  BUCK 

has  made  an  ill-considered  pledge;  but  I  advise  all 
women  to  make  haste  slowly  in  matters  pertaining  to 
love  and  marriage.  Remember,  the  good  book  saith, 
'Better  it  is  that  thou  shouldst  not  vow,  than  that 
thou  shouldst  vow  and  not  pay/  As  to  discussing  love 
philosophically,  there  is,  to  my  mind,  less  of  philosophy 
in  an  average  love  match  than  in  almost  anything  else 
human.  'Falling  in  love'  about  expresses  it,  and  when 
I  see  a  young  man  of  low  instincts  trying  to  win  some 
high,  pure  woman,  I  am  convinced  that  he,  at  least, 
does  not  understand  the  law  of  gravitation,  and  is 
striving  to  fall  upwards.  There  should  be  an  eternal 
fitness  in  mutual  love.  Miss  Polly/* 

"You  make  love  a  fearsome  thing,  Colonel  Paisly;  I 
have  never  before  heard  anyone  speak  of  it  in  so  grue- 
some a  style.  Women  folk  are  like  game — the  men  are 
the  archers,  so  I  have  been  thinking.  But  be  love  so 
solemn,  'tis  a  dangerous  thing  to  be  struck  by  the  shaft 
of  your  kind  of  Cupid." 

And  Polly  Rutherford  laughed  in  her  soft,  merry 
way,  although  there  was  a  shadow  of  demureness  about 
her  pretty  mouth. 

"Have  you  found  it  so.  Miss  Polly  .^"  and  John  Paisly 
sought  to  gaze  straight  into  the  bright  eyes  that  re- 
fused to  be  questioned. 

"This  is  not  a  personal  discussion.  Colonel,'*  she  an- 
swered; "we,  at  least,  are  speaking  philosophically." 

"I  am  sure  you  asked  my  experience  in  such  affairs. 
Miss  Polly,  and  true  comradery  should  reciprocate. 
Should  you  have  no  experience,  then  I  should  be  the 
loser;  but,  philosophy  or  no  philosophy,  pray  tell  me — 
have  you  found  love  a  solemn  and  gruesome  thing?" 

"Why  should  you  presume  that  I  have  found  love 
in  a  personal  way  at  all,  Colonel?** 


UNDER    WHICH  KING?  179 

"I  might  say  I  have  none  other  than  a  woman's  rea- 
son— *I  think  it  so  because  I  think  it  so' — but  that 
would  not  be  the  exact  truth.  Shall  I  tell  you  I  know 
you  have  such  an  experience?" 

"Colonel  Paisly,  how  can  you  say  you  know?'* 

"For  the  reason  that  one  who  rejoices  in  a  recipro- 
cated love  admitted  as  much  to  me";  and  John  Paisly 
watched  eagerly  the  effect  of  his  words  upon  Polly 
Rutherford. 

Her  face  flushed  and  her  bright  blue  eyes  sought 
shelter  beneath  their  long,  dark  lashes;  her  delicate 
fingers  were  interlaced  and  moved  in  a  nervous  way; 
while  a  temporary  silence  gave  evidence  that  her  feel- 
ings had  mastered  her  voice.  The  Colonel  remained 
silent,  too,  and  was  rewarded  at  last  by  hearing  a  soft, 
earnest  voice  saying: 

"All  men  are  alike,  Colonel — they  seem  so  enlifted  by 
the  slightest  admission  of  a  girl  that  she  cares  for  what 
they  offer  that  they  proclaim  it  from  the  housetops, 
and  thus  cause  the  unfortunate  woman  no  end  of  teasing 
and  worry.  Such  an  admission  from  a  woman,  as  that 
she  loves,  should  be  sacred,  Colonel  Paisly." 

"I  think  so,  too,  dear  Miss  Polly;  but  you  must  not 
think  that  my  friend  Luke  has  blazoned  forth  to  the 
world  his  good  fortune;  nay,  nay.  I  cannot  tell  you 
exactly  how  it  came  about,  for  a  very  good  reason  per- 
sonal to  myself;  but  Luke  told  me  in  confidence  that 
he  was  happy  in  your  love ;  and  that  confidence  has  not, 
and  will  not,  be  betrayed.  You  should  not  find  this 
love  of  Luke  Stallings'  a  solemn  and  a  gruesome  thing. 
You  have  my  best  wishes,  and  Luke  is  all  worthy;  but 
the  hour  is  now  late  and  I  must  say  good  night,  and 
try  not  to  disturb  the  slumber  of  Luke." 


180  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

And  with  a  cordial  clasp  of  Polly's  hand^  Colonel 
Paisly  left  the  drawing-room. 

It  was  after  midnight  when  Polly  Rutherford  took 
the  large  brass  candlestick  from  the  drawing-room 
table^  containing  the  candle  that  should  afford  her  light 
for  disrobings  and  sought  the  solitude  of  her  chamber. 
Her  sleep  was  fitful,  and  her  dreams  were  strangely 
mixed — the  lover  that  gained  her  favor  was  sometimes 
Luke;  and  then  his  face  would  fade  away  and  the 
bright,  speaking  eyes  of  Colonel  John  Paisly  seemed 
to  be  reading  her  thoughts  and  discovering  a  strange 
state  of  things  in  her  heart.  Under  which  king  goes 
the  white  flag  of  the  maiden? 


CHAPTER    XVI 

CONVALESCENCE    OF   LUKE   STALLINGS 

Sunday  morning  dawned  beautifully,  and  a  light 
frostwork  was  spread  like  a  gossamer  quilt  over  field 
and  forest.  The  sparkle  as  the  sun's  rays  gilded  the 
landscape  was  like  the  shining  of  myriads  of  tiny  dia- 
monds, and  the  dogwoods,  maples,  and  hickorys  gave 
the  woods  a  glow  of  color  that  no  artist  could  have 
faithfully  copied.  As  Luke  opened  his  eyes  upon  this 
lovely  scene  he  exclaimed  in  a  whisper,  for  fear  of 
waking  his  slumbering  companion;  "  'Manifold  are 
Thy  works,  O  God;  in  wisdom  hast  Thou  made  them 
all.'  This  beautiful  morning  comes  to  brighten  me 
bodily  and  to  cheer  my  poor  heart;  thank  God  for  all 
His  mercies." 

*'What  are  you  whispering  about,  Luke.'^"  questioned 
Colonel  Paisly  in  a  drowsy  tone. 

"I  am  thanking  God,  Colonel,  for  the  light  of  this 
beautiful  morning,  for  another  holy  Sabbath  of  rest, 
and  that  my  head  feels  less  sore  and  a  little  less 
muddled  than  it  did  on  yesterday." 

"  'Tis  a  lovely  morning,  sure  enough ;  a  day  to  be 
thankful  for,  and  I  am  so  glad  you  feel  better,"  said 
the  Colonel  as,  leaning  on  his  elbow  in  bed,  he  gazed 
out  upon  this  early  autumn  Sabbath  morn. 

"I  have  decided,  Luke,  to  leave  you  behind  and  let 
you  convalesce  while  the  troop  journeys  to  South  Caro- 

181 


182      THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

'  lina.  I  am  going  to  ask  for  a  transfer  of  our  command 
to  the  cavalry  division  of  the  Virginia  army,  and  in 
that  event  we  could  pass  by  here  on  our  way  to  join 
the  Virginia  forces.  By  that  time,  I  think  your  cracked 
head  will  have  mended,  between  Dr.  Caldwell,  Aunt 
Patsy,  and  Miss  Polly  Rutherford." 

"I  don't  know  that  it  is  best  for  my  cracked  head 
to  mend.  Colonel,  and  sometimes  I  wish — that  is  if  it's 
right  to  wish  it — that  the  spent  ball  had  brought  force 
enough  to  finish  its  work." 

"My  dear  friend,  you  must  not  talk  that  way;  few 
young  men  have  as  much  to  live  for  as  you  have.  The 
love  of  such  a  woman  as  Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock 
is  worth  the  best  abilities  of  any  man  in  shielding  and 
cherishing  her." 

"You  know  what  I  told  you  when  we  were  at  Daddy 
Scurlock's,  Colonel.^  I  am  of  the  same  mind  still.  I 
shall  release  Polly  Rutherford  from  all  pledges,  and 
when  this  war  is  over  she  shall  be  free  to  choose  between 
us.  When  I  am  strong  enough  to  see  and  talk  with  her 
I  shall  set  her  free." 

"Perhaps  Miss  Polly  does  not  desire  to  be  free, 
Luke.  You  should  not  pain  her  by  seeming  to  doubt 
her  loyalty." 

"She  should  not  wound  me.  Colonel,  by  being  so 
touchy  about  others  knowing  that  I  love  and  have  some 
claim  on  her.  Henceforth  I  shall  treat  Polly  only  as 
a  dear  friend  for  whom  I  would  do  or  dare  anything, 
but  she  shall  never  have  another  opportunity  to  wound 
me  in  the  presence  of  comparative  strangers." 

Luke  then  related  to  the  Colonel  what  had  passed 
between  them  the  evening  before  in  the  presence  of 
Dr.  Caldwell  and  Aunt  Patsy. 

"I  am  sorry,  so  sorry,  Luke;  but  you  must  remem- 


CONVALESCENCE    OF   STALLINGS       183 

ber  Miss  Polly  Rutherford  is  but  a  young,  inexperi- 
enced girl,  unused  to  being  engaged,  and  she  has  seen 
almost  nothing  of  you  since  you  were  engaged.  Be 
patient,  my  dear  fellow,  and  do  not  lose  heart;  I  shall 
never,  no  never,  stand  between  you  and  Polly,  Luke,  so 
do  nothing  rash.  Do  you  feel  equal  to  rising  this  fore- 
noon? 

"No,  Colonel,  I  am  weaker  than  I  thought  and  shall 
try  absolute  bodily  rest  to-day.  I  am  sorry,  too,  for  I 
should  have  enjoyed  hearing  Dr.  Caldwell  preach  to- 
day." 

"It  is  both  a  privilege  and  a  luxury,  Luke,  and  I 
must  hasten  to  dress,  for  Uncle  Rafe  and  Aunt  Patsy 
always  have  Sunday  breakfast  at  seven  o'clock." 

The  ever  faithful  Holiday  had  despatched  his  errand 
on  the  evening  before,  and  Polly  Rutherford  had  re- 
ceived a  package  tied  up  by  the  skillful  hands  of  Aunt 
Rachael  Caldwell,  containing  a  silk  gown  Mammy 
Mandy  had  purchased  for  her  in  Pittsboro  a  while  be- 
fore she  left  Chatham;  and  along  with  it  was  a  filmy 
lace  collar  and  wristlets  that  seemed  a  fitting  garniture 
to  the  sheeny  blue  and  gold  silk.  There  were  also 
bright  ribbons  at  the  neck,  and  around  the  waist  a 
girdle  in  blue  and  gold,  so  when  Polly  appeared  at 
breakfast  all  ready  for  church-going,  except  her  hat 
and  riding  habit,  her  cheeks  blooming  from  a  brisk  turn 
among  the  autumn  flowers  in  the  garden,  her  eyes 
shining  like  sapphires,  she  was  a  vision  of  loveliness  it 
would  have  been  hard  to  match  in  the  whole  Province. 

"Bravo,  but  you  are  a  winsome  lass,  Polly!"  ex- 
claimed Uncle  Rafe,  as  Polly  entered  the  dining-room. 

"Too  pretty;  she's  dangerous,"  added  Aunt  Patsy,  as 
she  gave  her  a  kiss. 

"I   can   add  nothing,"   exclaimed  the   Colonel,  while 


184  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

Mrs.  Ruth  Paisly  also  greeted  Polly  with  a  loving  smile 
and  a  kiss. 

"Cease  your  flatteries^  kind  friends;  people  can't  help 
their  looks !"  exclaimed  Polly.  "You  should  all  re- 
member 'tis  Sabbath  morning  and  you  should  put  aside 
all  idle  talk.     How  is  Luke  this  morning,  Colonel.^" 

"He  seems  brighter.  Miss  Polly,  and  had  a  fair  night. 
He  was  awake  before  the  chickens  came  off  the  roost, 
but  says  his  head  is  clear  from  the  dull  aching  of  yes- 
terday. He  is  unable  to  rise,  and  is  bemoaning  the 
loss  of  Dr.  Caldwell's  sermon.  He  says  he  is  the 
grandest  preacher  he  ever  heard  in  his  life,  and  won- 
ders how  he  ever  got  enough  Gospel  out  of  Old  Parson 
Rowe's  sermons  to  learn  the  road  to  Heaven." 

"Did  you  meet  Old  Parson  Rowe  while  you  were  in 
Chatham,  Colonel.'*"  asked  Polly. 

"No,  Miss  Polly,  and  hearing  that  he  was  a  friend 
of  Colonel  Fanning's  and  of  Jack  Rains,  I  had  no  de- 
sire to  make  his  acquaintance.  I  fell  in  love  with  your 
dear  father  and  mother,  though,  and  you  should  be  very 
grateful  for  such  parents  and  such  a  sweet  home  as 
Skin  Quarter,  Miss  Polly.  Aunt  Mandy  is  just  splen- 
did, and  Daddy  Scurlock,  had  he  been  a  Roman^  would 
have  been  a  Patrician  indeed." 

"My  home  and  my  beloved  parents  are  blessings  I 
can  never  feel  too  grateful  to  God  for.  Colonel.  Mother 
is  the  bravest  and  most  patriotic  woman  I  ever  saw,  and 
dear  old  Daddy  is  so  true,  so  tender.  I  could  weep 
if  the  weeping  would  give  me  a  glimpse  of  them." 

"I  spoke  of  Skin  Quarter,  Miss  Polly.  'Tis  a  singu- 
lar name  for  your  home.     How  did  it  ever  originate?" 

"Oh;  there  is  an  old  story  about  the  origin  of  that 
name;  it  reaches  back  to  the  early  settlers  of  Chatham. 
There  was   an  old  man  named  Zachary  Skin,  a  very 


CONVALESCENCE    OF   STALLINGS       185 

thrifty  man  who  came  over  from  England  early  in  this 
century,  and  accumulated  many  guineas  by  trading  with 
the  Indians  and  investing  his  earnings  in  land.  He 
located  large  holdings  on  Brush  Creek,  and  divided  his 
lands  into  smaller  plantations,  having  no  trouble  to  find 
tenants  as  he  provided  them  with  comfortable  cabins, 
and  allowed  a  reduction  on  the  rent  as  compensation 
for  clearing  the  timber  and  opening  fields.  Just  where 
our  house  now  stands,  Zachary  Skin  built  the  first  house 
ever  erected  on  that  plantation.  He  owned  a  number 
of  slaves,  and  the  richest  bottom  lands  on  Daddy's  place 
were  cleared  by  these  slaves  under  the  eyes  of  their 
old  master;  and  it  is  said  that  there  was  no  love  lost 
between  master  and  slaves. 

"Tradition  saith  that  Zachary  Skin  was  found  one 
morning  in  one  of  his  fields,  stone  dead,  at  the  root  of  a 
giant  pine.  His  horse,  wild  with  excitement,  was 
careering  about  the  field.  While  foul  play  was  sus- 
pected, no  proof  could  be  obtained,  and  the  old  man 
now  rests  in  our  burying  ground.  The  place  during  his 
life  time  was  called  'Skin's  Quarter,'  and  when  Daddy 
bought  the  plantation,  dropping  the  'S',  the  place  has 
since  been  known  as  Skin  Quarter." 

"That  is  an  interesting  story.  Miss  Polly,  and  the 
old  place  has  quite  a  history." 

"Oh,  Daddy  could  tell  you  many  stories  about  old 
Zachary  Skin,  Colonel,  for  it  was  always  thought  that 
he  ran  a  slave  vessel  between  Carolina  and  the  gold 
coast,  and  the  name  of  Skin  has  never  been  honored 
in  Chatham.  I  hope  you  will  visit  Chatham  in  peace- 
ful days  and  meet  some  of  our  real  good  people, 
Colonel." 

"You  may  be  sure  I  shall  do  so,  Miss  Polly,  if  life 


186  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

and  health  are  spared ;  I  should  grieve  to  think  I  should 
never  see  my  Chatham  friends  again." 

"I  am  just  waiting  for  peace  to  be  declared,  Polly 
dear,  and,  large  as  I  am,  Rafe  must  buy  a  vehicle  large 
enough  to  carry  me,  and  drive  me  over  to  Chatham.  I 
shall  never  rest  until  I  see  you  and  Mandy  in  your  own 
home,   child." 

"The  latch  string  is  always  outside,  Mrs.  Gordon,** 
said  Polly. 

"I  should  only  be  too  glad  to  celebrate  peace  in  that 
way.  Patsy  dear,"  said  Rafe  Gordon,  "and  if  you  think 
peace  is  not  far  off,  I  will  ride  over  to  Salem  and  get 
my  Moravian  friends  to  put  up  a  rig  for  you  this  fall. 
By  the  way,  are  you  going  to  church  this  morning. 
Patsy.?" 

"No,  Rafe,  Mr.  Stallings  must  not  be  left  alone  in 
the  house;  you  must  all  go,  and  I  will  stay  and  look 
after  him." 

So  breakfast,  a  long  and  social  meal,  was  ended,  and 
an  early  start  was  made  to  Buffalo  meeting  house. 
Polly  was  soon  mounted  on  her  own  beautiful  mare. 
Dapple,  that  had  been  sent  over  from  Dr.  Caldwell's 
for  her,  and  Colonel  Paisly,  mounted  upon  his  splendid 
black  charger,  was  her  escort. 

The  churchgoers  having  left.  Aunt  Patsy  prepared 
a  dainty  breakfast  for  Luke,  a  steaming  pot  of  yopon, 
a  rich  and  foaming  pitcher  of  milk,  hot  rolls  and  cakes, 
a  broiled  partridge,  and  other  accessories  that  would 
have  sufficed  for  the  appetites  of  at  least  two  well  men, 
but  everything  about  the  serving  was  dainty  and  appe- 
tizing. 

Calling  Holiday  she  said,  "Have  you  got  on  your 
Sunday's  best,  boy.?" 

"Yars,  Marm,  all  de  bes'  I  got,  Marm." 


CONVALESCENCE    OF   STALLINGS       187 

"Then  take  this  waiter  up  to  Mr.  Stallings'  room. 
Have  you  carried  up  fresh  water  and  looked  well  after 
the  comfort  of  the  gentleman,  Holiday?'* 

"Yars,  Marm,  two  hour  ago,  and  he  say  he  got  ebery- 
thing  he  want." 

"Go  on  then,  and  stay  and  wait  on  Mr.  Stallings 
while  he  takes  his  breakfast." 

With  a  duck  of  his  black  wooly  head,  Holiday 
vanished,  and  was  soon  tipping  quietly  into  the  large 
front  room  with  the  generous  breakfast,  and  had  ar- 
ranged it  on  a  small  table  beside  the  resting  soldier 
before  he  was  thoroughly  awake  or  aware  of  his  com- 
ing. Looking  down  into  the  half-closed  eyes  of  Luke, 
Holiday  called  gently,  "Mars  Stallings ;  Mars  Stallings ; 
hears  your  breakfast,  Sar.  Drink  dis  tea  whiles  'tis 
hot,  Sar;  ole  Miss'  comin'  up  presently." 

"What  have  you  there.  Holiday?" 

"Yo'  breakfus',  Sar,  nice  an'  hot." 

"Everybody  had  breakfast?" 

"Yars,  Sar.  Dey's  all  gone  to  church  'ceptin*  ole 
Miss'." 

"A  beautiful  Sunday,  Holiday;  'tis  too  bad  for  me 
to  be  lying  up  here  when  I  should  have  enjoyed  going 
to  church  so  much." 

"Mars  John,  he  sartin  enjoyed  goin',  Sar,  and  'twas 
a  lobely  sight;  he  on  he  fine  black  boss,  wid  skin  lak 
silk,  an'  Miss  Polly,  she  ridin'  her  beautiful  mar'  whar 
she  call  Dapple.  I  jess  knows  when  dey  gets  to  Buffalo 
de  folks  will  jes'  open  ranks  an'  let  'em  right  in;  I 
cert'n'y  is  sorry  you  couldn't  go.  Mars   Stallings." 

"So  Miss  Polly  and  Colonel  Paisly  looked  very 
happy,  did  they,  Holiday?" 

"Happy!  de  Lawd  a  mussy.  Mars  Stallings,  dere 
faces  was  jest  as  bright  as  de  shinin'  sun  on  dat  dog- 


ISS  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

wood  yonder^  and  I  hear  'em  larfin'  clear  untwell  you 
gets  to  de  turn  of  de  big  road,  a  soft,  pleasant  kinder 
larf." 

"So  you  think  the  Colonel  likes  Miss  Polly  very 
much,  do  you.  Holiday?" 

"Dat's  de  least  near  de  truth  you  could  say  it.  Mars 
Stallings.  I  oberhear  de  Colonel  tell  he  mar  one  day 
when  Miss  Polly  fust  come,  dat  Miss  Polly  Ruther- 
ford Scurlock  was  de  onliest  lady  he  eber  see  dat  his 
heart  jes'  natchully  went  out  to  de  fust  time  he  eber 
seen  her/' 

"Do  you  think  Miss  Polly  Rutherford  likes  the 
Colonel,  Holiday?" 

"Heah;  heah.  Mars  Stallings,  now  you  axed  me  some- 
thin'  sho-nuff.  'Cose  she  lak  him,  Sar,  but  how  much 
she  lak  him  dat's  de  question  dat  comboberates  me. 
If  de  Colonel  want  dat  lady,  Sar,  he  better  be  spry, 
'caze  you  don't  see  her  kind  ebery  day;  no,  Sar,  and 
she  won't  go  a-beggin'  for  a  pardner.  All  dese  men 
'round  Buffalo,  young  and  old,  has  been  wearin'  out 
Mars  Caldwell's  hoss-rack,  an'  dev  tells  me  she  kicks 
'em  wusser  dan  a  two-year-ole  filly." 

The  drolleries  of  Holiday  served  to  amuse  Luke,  and 
when  Aunt  Patsy  entered  the  room  a  little  later,  she 
found  him  convulsed  with  laughter  and  more  cheerful 
in  spirit  than  she  had  yet  seen  him. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Stallings.  I  rejoice  to  see  you 
so  merry,"  was  Aunt  Patsy's  salutation.  "Have  you 
eaten  that  breakfast?"  she  then  questioned. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Gordon,  you  certainly  did  not  expect  me 
to  get  away  with  rations  enough  for  three  men.  I  have 
been  eating  and  laughing  by  turns,  for  Holiday  has 
been  quite  entertaining,  and  I  feel  decidedly  brighter 
than  I  did  last  evening." 


CONVALESCENCE    OF   STALLINGS       189 

"Holiday  is  a  great  gabbler,  and  I  fear  has  worried 
you.  You  can  take  those  things  down  now.  Holiday, 
and  clear  up  the  dining-room." 

"Yars,  Marm,  but  I  ain't  talk  no  worrvsome  talk  to 
Mars  Stallings;  I  jes'  'scribin'  things  to  him,  Marm." 

"Well,  you  go  and  scrub  out  the  dining-room,  and  I 
will  'scribe  anything  Mr.   Stallings  wishes  'scribed." 

"Yars,  Marm";  and  with  a  broad  grin  and  a  funny 
roll  of  the  whites  of  his  eyes  toward  Luke,  which  again 
convulsed  him.  Holiday  made  his  exit. 

"That  African  is  utterly  irrepressible,  Mr.  Stallings, 
and  I  sometimes  fear  we  spoil  him,  but  he  is  so  good- 
natured,  humble  and  droll.  I  never  feel  out  of  spirits 
when  Holiday  is  about.  That  is  one  reason  I  took  him 
into  the  house;  and  then  he  is  an  orphan.  His  father 
was  taken  to  Georgia  when  Holiday  was  a  little  black 
atom,  and  his  mother  died  years  ago;  he  has  been  raised 
about  the  house." 

"Holiday  is  a  character,  Mrs.  Gordon;  he  has  been 
telling  me  about  the  start  to  'chutch,'  as  he  called  it, 
and  how  happy  Polly  Rutherford  and  the  Colonel 
looked;  and  how  much  he  thought  the  Colonel  loved 
Miss  Polly.  I  tell  you,  Madam,  Holiday  is  no  fool,  and 
he  knows  about  as  well  what  is  going  on  about  him  as 
the  next  one." 

"Polly  did  look  lovely  this  morning,  I\Ir.  Stallings. 
You  ought  to  have  seen  her.  No  one  could  help  loving 
the  child;  she  is  just  bewitching,  and  seems  so  inno- 
cent and  unaware  of  her  attractions.  You  are  a  very 
fortunate  man,  indeed  you  are,  Mr.  Stallings,  in  having 
won  so  early  her  love." 

"I  am  a  very  unfortunate  man,  Madam,  as  events  are 
proving;  I  have  been  engaged  in  this  war  about  a  year, 
and  have  been  wounded  twice.     I  thought  I   had  won 


190  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

the  heart  of  the  sweetest  woman  in  the  world,  but  there 
is  an  old  Proverb  which  says,  'Mischiefs  come  by  the 
pound,  and  go  away  by  the  ounce.'  Other  folk  have 
found  my  lassie  to  be  winsome,  and  I  shall  lose  her; 
there  is  nothing  left  then  but  to  lose  my  life  for  my 
country.      I  trust  I  am  willing  to  make  the  sacrifice." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Stallings;  where  is  your  merry  humor? 
I  shall  have  to  send  for  Holiday  again.  Surely  you 
do  not  think  that  Polly  Rutherford  has  so  soon  repented 
her  vows,  and  desires  a  wider  range  of  conquest?" 

"That  is  just  it  exactly,  Mrs.  Gordon.  Polly  has 
seen  but  little  of  this  world  of  ours,  and,  up  to  the 
time  of  her  visit  to  Dr.  Caldwell's,  knew  but  few  men 
who  were  worthy  of  her  acquaintance.  Is  it  at  all 
strange  that  she  should  be  pleased  with  even  this  little 
glimpse  into  another  world?  I  shall  free  her  from  her 
promise,  Mrs.  Gordon,  and  let  her  heart  revel  in  its 
power  over  men.  To  this  end,  many  women  were 
created,  judging  from  what  I  now  see." 

"You  must  not  grow  cynical,  Mr.  Stallings,  and  pray 
do  nothing  in  haste  that  shall  wound  that  young  girl's 
heart.  Polly  is  gay  and  enjoys  life,  but  I  feel  sure 
she  is  noble  and  true,  and  would  do  nothing,  knowingly, 
that  would  seem  like  disloyalty  to  you." 

"I  have  read  the  handwriting  on  the  wall,  Mrs.  Gor- 
don; I  have  'been  weighed  in  the  balance  and  found 
wanting.'  'God  hath  numbered  my  kingdom,  and 
finished  it.*  Polly  shall  never  rest  under  a  stigma  of 
disloyalty  to  me,  for  I  shall  release  her." 

"You  are  determined  on  that?  Do  you  know  whether 
John  Paisly  divines  your  intention?" 

"He  knows  it.  Madam,  and  he  endeavored  to  dis- 
suade me.     I  had  determined  on  this  course  before  I 


CONVALESCENCE    OF   STALLINGS       191 

left  Chatham.  Since  I  have  seen  the  Colonel  and  Polly 
together,  I  am  only  the  more  determined." 

"Well,  the  skein  of  life  has  some  hard  knots,  Mr. 
Stallings;  I  truly  hope  you  may  find  Polly  truer  than 
you  think,  for  as  much  as  I  would  joy  to  see  her  the 
wife  of  John  Paisly,  I  would  not  have  it  so  at  the  ex- 
pense of  her  loyalty  to  you.  Cheer  up ;  you  are  a  brave 
and  honest  man,  and  deserve  well  at  the  hands  of  Polly 
Rutherford." 

"Thank  you  kindly.  Madam.  I  shall  brace  up  and 
strive  to  bear  life's  ills  like  a  Christian  man  should. 
I  will  rise  from  this  bed  this  afternoon,  and  my  face 
shall  wear  a  smile  even  though  my  heart  were  break- 
ing. Men  know  not  what  they  can  bear  until  the  fires 
of  the  crucible  touch  them." 

"Do  not  undertake  to  get  up,  Mr.  Stallings,  unless 
you  feel  quite  equal  to  it.  I  will  now  look  at  your 
wound  and  see  how  much  improvement  there  is" ;  and 
going  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  Mrs.  Gordon  called  out, 
"Holiday !" 

"Yars,  Marm,"  came  the  answer. 

"Bring  me  a  noggin  of  warm  water  and  those  linen 
cloths  in  the  laundry,  Holiday.'* 

"Yars,  Marm,  comin'."  And  the  young  African  soon 
entered  the  room,  bringing  all  that  Mrs.  Gordon 
required. 

Mrs.  Gordon  carefully  unbound  Luke's  head  and 
gently  removed  the  dressing,  displaying  to  Holiday's 
astonished  gaze  quite  a  sizeable  hole  in  a  state  of 
healthy  granulation. 

"De  Lawd  a  mussy.  Mars  Stallings,  dem  folks  mose 
kill  you.  Never  see  nothing  like  dat  'ceptin'  dem  folks 
whar  Miss  Patsy  had  here  arter  de  battle.  Dey  was 
abused  up  scand'lous,  dey  was." 


192  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"This  is  the  fate  of  war,  Holiday;  you  ought  to  be 
glad  you  are  a  nigger,  and  don't  have  to  fight." 

"Dat  I  is,  Sar.  Ain't  nobody  I  gwyin  ter  fight  fer, 
'ceptin'  'twas  Mars  Rafe  er  Miss  Patsy." 

"Would  you  fight  for  me,  Holiday?"  asked  Aunt 
Patsy,  with  a  comical  smile. 

"Dat  I  would,  Marm;  fight  wusser  dan  a  wile-cat, 
and  dey  is  de  fightin'est  things  in  de  woods." 

"Well,  I  hope  you  will  never  have  cause  to  defend 
me.  Holiday,  but  I  believe  you  would  do  it."  Then 
turning  toward  Luke,  Aunt  Patsy,  smiling  one  of  those 
sweet  smiles  that  seemed  like  a  ray  of  sunlight,  said, 
"The  wound  is  so  much  better,  Mr.  Stallings;  the  in- 
flammation is  going  away  fast,  and  the  danger  to  your 
brain  is  all  passed.  I  am  so  thankful.  Now  I  will  bind 
it  up  with  a  fresh  dressing,  then  you  must  have  perfect 
quiet  and  take  another  nap  before  the  people  come 
from  church.  Perhaps  we  will  let  you  come  do-vvn  to 
supper." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

DEEDS    ARE    FRUITS,     WORDS    ARE     BUT    LEAVES 

There  had  been  two  services  at  old  Buffalo  church, 
and  the  day  was  one  long  remembered  by  the  neigh- 
bors who  had  gathered  for  miles  around  to  hear  the 
wise  and  eloquent  words  of  Dr.  David  Caldwell. 

The  morning  sermon  was  from  a  text  that  arrested 
the  attention  of  every  hearer,  as  the  good  doctor,  with 
impressive  manner,  announced  it.  Proverbs,  18th  chap- 
ter, 21st  verse:  *'Death  and  life  are  in  the  power  of 
the  tongue,  and  they  that  love  it  shall  eat  the  fruit 
thereof."  The  tongue,  its  duties,  its  power  over  life 
and  death;  the  vehicle  of  utterance  for  the  brain;  the 
mouthpiece  of  the  heart,  was  described  as  the  Colonel 
and  Polly  Rutherford  had  never  heard  it  before.  This 
little  member  was  shown  to  be  like  the  little  helm  that 
moves  and  controls  the  mighty  ship ;  like  the  little  spider 
weaves,  so  the  tongue  weaves  the  web  of  life;  like  the 
magnetic  needle  that  unerringly  points  to  the  pole,  so 
does  the  tongue  point  to  the  inward  and  secret  emo- 
tions of  heart  and  brain. 

As  the  audience  had  pictured  before  them  the  power 
of  the  tongue  in  shaping  their  destinies,  in  bringing 
joy,  happiness  and  life,  or  sorrow,  shame  and  death, 
there  were  many  hearts  that  trembled  for  words  of  bit- 
terness and  slander  already  uttered;  there  were  many 
silent  prayers  lifted  to  the  All  Seeing  One  for  forgive- 

193 


194  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  BED  BUCK 

ness  and  for  strength  to  guard  the  door  of  the  lips. 
That  sermon  brought  many  heart-searchings  in  Buffalo 
congregation^  and  more  than  one  neighborhood  quarrel 
was  stopped^  while  many  sore  hearts  drew  near  to  each 
other  and  realized  the  sweetness  of  being  forgiven. 

The  afternoon  sermon  was  no  less  powerful  than  the 
one  so  reverently  listened  to  in  the  morning,  being  a 
beautiful  and  simple  homily  upon  the  Lord's  prayer, 
as  recorded  in  Luke,  2nd  chapter,  verses  2  to  5.  The 
sermons  seemed  to  so  take  hold  upon  the  people,  that 
at  noontide  as  they  dined  in  the  grove  and  mingled  in 
friendly  talk,  the  absorbing  subject  was  the  "Tongue 
Sermon,"  as  Rafe  Gordon  called  it.  At  the  close  of 
the  second  service,  as  in  groups  they  left  the  old  grove 
and  the  spot  where  their  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet 
slept,  there  was  a  warm  tender  feeling  in  the  hearts  of 
the  Buffalo  people,  for  they  had  sat  in  heavenly  places 
and  realized  as  never  before  that  God  was  a  Father, 
dispensing  all  good,  and  protecting  his  children  from 
every  trial  for  which  there  was  not  a  need. 

"Which  sermon  did  you  like  best.^"  asked  Polly  Ruth- 
erford, as,  by  John  Paisly's  side,  they  slowly  rode  to- 
ward the  Gordon  home. 

"Both,"  said  Colonel  Paisly,  quizzically,  "but  when  I 
get  to  thinking  of  that  'Tongue  Sermon,'  as  Uncle  Rafe 
calls  it,  I  think  it  was  one  of  the  most  heart-searching, 
sin-discovering  discourses  I  ever  heard  in  my  life.  The 
doctor  put  in  the  knife  and  laid  bare  many  a  heart  to- 
day; what  mean  things  we  give  expression  to  with  our 
tongues;  how  often  we  utter  words  that  should  not  be 
spoken.** 

Quietly  Polly  rode  along,  watching  the  sun  as,  in  the 
midst  of  glowing  clouds,  it  was  sinking  toward  the  dis- 
tant woods.     At  last  with  a  sigh  she  said,  "My  poor 


DEEDS  ARE  FRUITS  195 

tongue  is  always  getting  me  into  mischief^  Colonel;  I 
sometimes  wish  that  I  stammered,,  then  I  would  be 
slower  of  speech,  and  would  take  more  time  for 
thought." 

The  Colonel  laughed  in  his  soft,  quiet  way,  saying, 
"You  need  no  bridle  on  your  tongue.  Miss  Polly,  ex- 
cept grace,  and  I  think  you  have  more  of  that  than  most 
of  my  friends." 

"Ah,  how  little  you  know  me,  Colonel.  Why  it  was 
only  yesterday  that  I  spoke  very  rudely  to  poor  Luke 
in  the  presence  of  Aunt  Patsy  and  Uncle  Caldwell,  and 
I  have  been  ashamed  of  myself  ever  since.  I  thought 
of  that  while  Uncle  Caldwell  was  preaching  this  morn- 
ing, and  when  he  looked  so  straight  in  our  direction,  I 
suspected  he  meant  a  great  deal  of  that  sermon  for  me." 

"I  know  he  meant  all  of  it  for  me.  Miss  Polly,  so 
don't  grieve.  If  you  have  wounded  Luke's  feelings,  I 
know  you  will  make  amends,  and  he  is  far  too  noble  and 
generous  to  bear  malice." 

Just  then  they  were  overtaken  by  Rafe  Gordon  and 
Dr.  Caldwell,  and  their  conversation  ceased  in  that 
direction. 

"Come,  Parson,"  said  Rafe,  "can't  ye  go  by  and  spend 
the  night?     Young  Stallings  will  be  wanting  to  see  ye." 

They  had  reached  the  fork  leading  off  to  Dr.  Cald- 
well's. 

"I  cannot  spend  the  night,  Rafe,  for  Rachel  will  be 
looking  for  me,  but  I  must  go  by  and  see  how  that 
young  man  is  getting  on;  I  have  taken  quite  a  fancy  to 
Stallings,  John  Paisly." 

"So  you  said  before,  and  I  did,  Parson,  the  first  time 
I  ever  met  him.  He  was  at  Daddy  Scurlock's,  lying 
with  his  arm  and  shoulder  full  of  slug  and  buckshot 
holes,  and  but  for  the  bandages  you  could  not  have  told 


196  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

there  was  a  thing  the  matter  with  him.  The  Continental 
Army  has  no  braver,  truer  soldier  than  Luke  Stallings." 

"I  believe  you,  John.  Come,  let  us  quicken  up,  for 
I  can  only  stop  by  a  little  while." 

Soon  the  whole  party  reached  the  Gordon  home,  Mrs. 
Paisly's  vehicle  having  gone  ahead  of  them,  and  were 
ushered  into  the  drawing-room  where  they  found  Aunt 
Patsy  entertaining  Luke,  who  was  reclining  on  a  com- 
fortable lounge  and  looking  decidedly  brighter  and 
better. 

"Well,  how  is  my  patient?"  inquired  the  doctor,  as 
he  walked  over  and  took  a  seat  by  Luke,  grasping  and 
holding  his  hand  as  he  spoke. 

"I  am  much  better.  Dr.  Caldwell;  my  head  is  getting 
all  right,  and  my  appetite  is  not  only  carnivorous,  but 
omnivorous,"  replied  Luke  with  a  quiet  smile  on  his 
fine  face. 

"Bravo!  You  are  worth  a  dozen  Tories  any  day;  I 
have  great  hopes  of  you.  So  there  is  nothing  for  me 
to  do.  Sister  Patsy,  and  while  this  company  is  very 
agreeable,  we  will  have  worship  and  I  will  then  go 
home  to  Rachel." 

The  prayers  of  David  Caldwell  were  heart-talks  with 
God,  and  he  lifted  every  one  around  that  family  altar 
up,  up,  into  the  very  presence  of  the  King  Eternal,  Im- 
mortal, Invisible,  and  had  such  a  tender  way  of  telling 
the  Father  your  every  want,  your  every  sorrow,  your 
joys  and  thanksgivings,  that  this  altar  service  was  as 
the  voice  of  one  heart,  that  all  present  felt  the  uplift, 
and  arose  from  the  place  of  prayer  feeling  nearer  to 
each  other,  nearer  to  the  great  searcher  and  keeper  of 
hearts. 

"So  you  go  to  General  Greene  in  the  morning,  do  you, 
John.^"  asked  the  doctor  as  he  was  taking  leave. 


DEEDS  ARE  FRUITS  197 

"Yes^  Doctor;  I  have  ordered  my  troop  to  pass  here 
at  seven  in  the  morning,  and  we  will  be  on  the  march 
before  eight.  I  am  going  to  leave  Luke  under  your 
skillful  care  until  we  pass  this  way  en  route  to 
Virginia." 

"That  is  well.  Luke  has  more  nerve  and  will  power 
at  this  time  than  he  has  strength,  and  his  system  has 
been  so  depleted  he  needs  building  up.  I  shall  have 
you  rosy  and  strong,  young  man,  in  a  short  time  if  you 
only  obey  my  orders." 

"I  don't  feel  strong  enough  to  resist  them  even  if  I 
felt  so  disposed,  Doctor,  and  I  am  so  tired  of  playing  the 
invalid  I  promise  to  be  a  good  boy  if  that  will  make 
me  able  to  fight  my  enemies  soon." 

"Luke  does  not  think  of  anything  but  the  next  battle. 
Doctor,"  said  Paisly,  "and  he  is  a  dangerous  man  to 
follow  in  a  charge.  That  old  sorrel  top  he  rides  is 
always  prepared  against  the  day  of  battle,  and  seems  to 
delight  in  the  roar  of  guns  and  the  clash  of  steel  quite 
as  much  as  Luke  does." 

"War  is  one  of  the  scourges  of  our  race,  my  young 
friends,  and  'tis  sent  to  punish  man  for  his  sins  of  hate 
and  greed  and  lust  of  power.  We,  as  a  people,  are 
not  without  sin,  but  I  believe  that  in  defending  our 
homes  and  in  claiming  the  right  to  govern  ourselves,  we 
are  doing  right.  Hence^  the  cause  of  my  people  is 
my  cause,  and  I  can  earnestly  pray  to  God  for  his 
blessing  upon  every  arm  uplifted  for  our  defence.  May 
God  bless  you  and  your  brave  boys,  John  Paisly,  and 
bring  you  back  to  us  again  in  peace."  With  an  earnest 
shake  of  the  hand  with  all,  and  a  good-night  kiss  to 
Polly,  the  doctor  passed  out  of  the  cheery  home  of 
Rafe  Gordon  and  was  soon  trotting  homeward,  sing- 
ing   as    he    rode    along    beneath    the    twinkling    stars, 


198  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

"Amazing  Grace^  How  Sweet  the  Sound/'  to  a  quaint^ 
and  plaintive  air  that  has  lived  in  the  hearts  of  ouf 
people  for  more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  years. 

The  evening  meal  passed  quickly  at  the  Gordons',  and 
Mrs.  Paisly  and  the  Colonel  remained  in  the  dining- 
room  with  Rafe  and  Aunt  Patsy  for  a  quiet  talk  about 
home  matters.  As  the  Colonel  was  going  a  long  dis- 
tance from  home  he  was  anxious  that  Uncle  Rafe  should 
understand  the  condition  of  his  own  and  his  mother's 
affairs,  so  that  he  could  advise  and  aid  her  in  every 
way  possible,  they  found  much  to  talk  over.  Thus  was 
Polly  Rutherford  left  to  entertain  Luke  in  the  drawing- 
room,  and  they  were  now  alone  together  for  the  first 
time  in  months.  Polly  felt  a  little  embarrassed,  for  she 
remembered  her  hasty  words  on  Saturday  evening,  and 
expected  that  Luke  would  lose  no  time  in  resenting 
them.  Instead,  Luke's  face  wore  a  sweet  smile  as  he 
took  his  seat  near  Polly,  and,  without  reference  to  the 
unpleasant  words  she  had  spoken,  he  asked  gently, 
"Have  you  enjoyed  this  holy  day,  dear  Polly?  and  do 
tell  me  about  Dr.  Caldwell's  sermons." 

Polly  glanced  shyly  at  Luke  as  she  answered,  "It 
has  been  a  delightful  Sabbath,  and  I  have  enjoyed  its 
restful  hours  so  much;  but  Uncle  Caldwell  preached  his 
whole  morning  sermon  to  me,  Luke,  every  bit  of  it." 

"How  so,  Polly  dear?" 

"His  text  was,  'Death  and  life  are  in  the  power  of 
the  tongue,  and  they  that  love  it  shall  eat  the  fruit 
thereof.'  Oh,  he  showed  me  so  plainly  how  mean  my 
tongue  could  be,  what  a  wonderful  power  it  had  over 
life  and  death,  and  how  bitter,  indeed,  was  the  fruit 
of  an  evil  tongue.  He  told  us  that  many  folks  were 
as  beautiful  outwardly  as  the  apples  of  Sodom,  and 
lust  as  bitter  inwardly  when  you  get  a  taste  of  them. 


DEEDS  ARE  FRUITS  199 

When  he  said  this  he  looked  straight  at  me,  and,  Luke, 
I  never  felt  as  mean  in  or  out  of  church  in  my  life,  for 
I  was  sure  he  meant  to  rebuke  me  for  the  way  in  which 
I  talked  to  you  on  Saturday  evening,"  and  Polly's  voice 
trembled  as  she  spoke. 

Luke  was  now  holding  Polly's  hand  between  both  his 
broad  sun-burnt  honest  hands  as  he  gently  pressed  and 
stroked  her  trembling  fingers.  "Say  no  more  about 
that,  Polly  dear;  I  should  not  have  been  so  outspoken, 
men  are  slow  to  learn  how  sacred  a  thing  a  woman's 
heart  is.  Do  you  know,  I  am  now  glad  you  spoke  to 
me  as  you  did,  for  it  taught  me  a  lesson.  I  love  you, 
Polly  dear,  as  I  am  sure  no  other  man  can,  for  I  have 
known  you  from  your  babyhood.  I  love  you  so  that 
if  my  love  stands  in  the  way  of  your  happiness,  do 
you  know  I  should  sacrifice  it  even  though  it  broke  my 
heart  .'^" 

"Oh,  Luke!  what  are  you  talking  about .^"  and  Polly 
looked  both  troubled  and  abashed. 

"I  am  only  saying,  Polly  dear,  that  if  I  found  that 
you  didn't  love  me  with  the  whole-hearted  devotion  you 
thought  you  did,  and  if  a  greater  love  had  crept, 
through  no  fault  of  yours,  darling,  into  your  heart,  I 
should  go  away,  should  free  you  and  pray  God's  bless- 
ing upon  your  new  love.  It  would  break  my  heart,  but 
I  should  do  it." 

Polly  was  now  weeping;  she  saw  that  Luke,  as  un- 
sophisticated as  he  was,  had  been  reading  her  heart, 
and  in  that  heart  there  was  being  waged  a  battle.  She 
knew  Luke's  value,  and  she  loved  him  as  much  as  in 
her  ignorance  she  had  thought  men  should  be  loved. 
There  was,  in  the  character  of  John  Paisly,  a  soft, 
gentle  way  with  women  that  seemed  to  win  his  way  to 
their  hearts,  and  he  was  so  genial,  so  refined,  and  culti- 


200  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

vated,  he  had  surely  made  a  deep  impression  in  his 
brief  acquaintance  with  Polly  Rutherford  Scurlock, 
upon  her  heart  and  life. 

Looking  up  to  Luke  with  streaming  eyes,  Polly 
sobbed  out  softly,  "Oh,  why  did  I  ever  come  to  Guil- 
ford?    We  were  so  contented  at  Skin  Quarter!" 

"Your  coming  to  Guilford,  Polly,  has  been  one  of 
God's  providences.  You  have  been  preserved  from 
much  danger,  you  have  made  many  friends,  and  your 
heart  has  been  brought  face  to  face  with  the  question, 
'Which  do  I  love  best,  Luke  Stallings  or  John  Paisly?' 
It  is  much  better  to  face  and  answer  that  question  now, 
than  to  make  a  fatal  mistake  and  become  a  loveless 
wife.     I  had  rather  possess  a  pillar  of  salt,  than  that." 

The  effect  of  Luke's  words  seemed  overwhelming,  and 
Polly,  trembling  and  in  an  agony  of  grief,  leaned  for- 
ward and  would  have  fallen  but  for  the  supporting  arm 
of  Luke.  "Poor  child,  poor  child,  perhaps  I  should  not 
have  said  it  so  plainly,  but  'tis  best  to  settle  it.  Wipe 
away  your  tears,  darling,  and  never  shed  another  one 
for  me  while  I  live;  save  them  for  my  bier.  Let  me 
tell  you  what  I  think  is  best;  I  will  release  you  from 
your  promise  to  me,  although  I  am  still  your  lover  and 
you  can  claim  me.  I  will  go  away  with  Colonel  John 
Paisly,  and  together  we  will  battle  for  our  country. 
Should  we  both  survive,  we  will  return  and  you  can 
then  decide  between  us.  Should  I  fall  in  battle,  and 
I  think  that  is  very  likely,  then  you  would  be  unfet- 
tered, and  my  dying  prayer  shall  be  for  God's  richest 
blessing  upon  you  and  John  Paisly." 

Polly  Rutherford  was  much  moved  by  Luke's  words, 
and  as  he  gently  stroked  her  sunny  hair  and  soothed 
her,  she  grew  calmer  and  was  at  last  able  to  say,  "Luke, 
you  are  too  good,  too  noble  for  me,  and  one  regret  of 


DEEDS  ARE  FRUITS  201 

my  life  will  be  that  I  have  brought  you  this  great  sor- 
row. I  do  love  you,  and  yet,  and  yet — Oh,  that  I  had 
not  met  Colonel  Paisly!" 

"Say  not  so,  dearest  Polly.  Remember,  a  love  that 
will  not  stand  trial  is  of  unknown  strength.  All  will 
come  out  in  accordance  with  the  purposes  of  an  all- 
wise  providence;  let  me  be  your  loving  Luke  who  car- 
ried your  school-bag,  and  fought  your  battles  years 
agone.  Let  the  future  take  care  of  itself;  you  must 
be  once  more  a  happy  girl  and  take  all  the  love  people 
give  you.  Do  like  Aunt  Mandy  says,  'Take  no  more 
on  your  head  than  you  can  kick  off  with  your  heels.'  " 

This  quaint  old  saying  Polly  had  heard  from  her 
mother  many  a  time,  and  it  brought  a  faint  smile  to 
her  lips,  and  looking  up  into  Luke's  face  as  he  held 
her  in  his  arms,  she  said,  as  her  tears  dropped  upon 
his  tawny  beard,  "Your  heart  is  all  love,  Luke,  and 
you  deserve  the  best  woman  in  the  world.  Let  all  this 
be  as  you  say,  but  remember,  I  do  love  you." 

"Well,  are  you  willing  to  pay  the  postage  on  that 
letter  I  brought  you  from  Aunt  Mandy.''" 

"Oh,  Luke,  you  don't  insist?" 

"Yes  I  do,  and  with  deferred  interest." 

"Oh  my!  What  can  I  do  but  pay  an  honest  debt!" 
And  Luke  enjoyed  the  collecting. 

Luke  felt,  as  he  bade  Polly  good-night  and  sought  his 
restful  couch,  thankful  that  he  had  been  given  strength 
to  speak  and  ability  to  do  a  generous  deed  toward 
Polly;  and,  as  he  passed  into  quiet  slumber,  he  called 
to  mind  the  words  of  a  quaint  old  proverb,  "Deeds  are 
fruits,  words  are  but  leaves." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


AT    YORKTOWN 


The  September  days  swiftly  and  delightfully  passed 
away,  and  Luke  Stallings  under  the  kind  care  of  Dr. 
Caldwell  and  good  Aunt  Patsy  Gordon  had  regained  his 
strength  and  was  now  eager  for  the  return  of  Colonel 
Paisly  and  the  troop  on  their  way  to  Virginia. 

One  lovely  afternoon  Polly  had  taken  Luke  along  one 
of  her  favorite  walks  through  the  autumn  woods  and 
to  a  spring  deep  down  under  the  shadow  of  a  great 
rock;  and  as  they  sat  and  talked  of  the  happy  past, 
of  the  dear  ones  in  Chatham,  of  what  might  await  them 
in  the  future,  the  still  air  began  to  vibrate  with  the 
far-off  notes  of  a  bugle,  as  clear  and  true  they  came 
across  field  and  bracken  from  the  big  road  that  led  up 
from  the  south. 

"Har,  Polly  dear,  our  boys  are  coming.  I  hear  Mike 
Kinsey's  bugle;  let  us  walk  across  yon  field  and  greet 
them  as  they  pass.  Colonel  Paisly  told  me  that  on 
their  return  they  would  camp  at  Rafe  Gordon's." 

A  brisk  walk  of  a  few  hundred  yards  brought  them 
to  the  road,  and  soon  they  saw  approaching  the  Paisly 
troop  with  the  Colonel  and  Charley  Sheering  riding  at 
the  head  of  the  column.  At  sight  of  Luke  and  Polly, 
off  went  each  soldier's  head-gear,  and  loud  huzzas 
greeted   them,   while   the    Colonel,    Sheering,   and   Joel 

202 


AT   YORKTOTVN  203 

Sowell  dismounted  and  gave  them  a  glad  shake  of  the 
hand. 

"What  have  you  all  been  doing  to  Luke,  Miss  Polly 
Rutherford?  He  looks  like  a  new  man,"  said  the 
Colonel  iovouslv. 

"Why  Aunt  Patsy,  first,  and  then  Aunt  Rachel,  have 
been  robbing  roost  and  larder  to  find  enough  for  him 
to  eat,"  said  Polly  with  a  merry  laugh.  "I  think  he 
should  show  some  improvement." 

"And  so  he  does ;  but  I  must  not  keep  my  boys  any 
longer.  They  are  weary  and  have  a  long  march  be- 
fore them  to-morrow.  We  have  roll  call  at  six  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning,  Luke,  and,  then,  'march'  is  the 
word.  'Tis  needless  to  sav  vou  will  be  sure  to  answer. 
Good-bye,  Miss  Polly;  you  must  pray  for  us  all,  and 
we  will  not  forget  you  in  the  day  of  battle." 

In  a  moment  Colonel  Paisly,  Charley,  and  Joel  had 
remounted,  the  column  was  in  motion,  and  Luke  and 
Polly  were  left  alone  in  the  road.  Long  before  dawn 
the  next  morning  the  family  were  astir  at  Parson  Cald- 
well's, for  none  were  willing  to  have  Luke  depart  with- 
out bidding  him  a  tender  good-bye,  and  the  Parson  was 
going  with  him  as  far  as  Rafe  Gordon's  to  say  a  few 
words  of  farewell  to  the  brave  boys,  many  of  whom  he 
might  never  see  again. 

Breakfast  was  taken  by  candle-light,  then  Luke  bade 
Mrs.  Caldwell  such  a  grateful  good-bye  it  brought  tears 
to  her  eyes.  Taking  her  hand  he  said,  "You  have  been 
so  sweet  and  kind  to  me.  Madam,  I  can  never  forget 
you.  God  will  surely  reward  you  for  all  your  tender 
care  of  one  who  never  knew  a  mother's  love,  but  never 
missed  it  when  with  you."  The  leave-taking  between 
Polly  Rutherford  and  Luke  was  full  of  sorrow,  for 
Polly  felt  that  she  was  parting  with   one   upon  whom 


204  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

she  could  always  depend,  one  of  whose  devotion  to  her 
there  could  be  no  doubt.  Luke  felt  that  he  was  pos- 
sibly parting  forever  from  the  only  human  being  he 
had  ever  clung  to  with  an  all-absorbing  love.  The  last 
moment  came;  he  gave  her  a  tender  kiss,  and,  cling- 
ing to  him  with  her  soft,  tender  hands  on  his  shoulders, 
she  said  in  tearful  tones,  "God  bless  and  keep  you, 
Luke,  and  bring  you  back  in  safety." 

Passing  out  of  the  house  into  the  darkness  of  the 
hour  before  dawn,  Luke  and  the  doctor  mounted  their 
horses  and  soon  reached  the  home  of  the  Gordons, 
where  all  was  bustle  and  excitement.  Uncle  Rafe  and 
Aunt  Patsy  having  determined  to  serve  to  the  whole 
troop  a  parting  breakfast.  The  table  had  been  spread 
in  the  center  of  the  large  barn,  and  bonfires  were  built 
of  blazing  light-wood  knots  in  front  of  the  large  drive- 
way doors,  front  and  rear.  So  the  interior  was  illumi- 
nated with  a  ruddy  glow,  this  light  being  supplemented 
by  a  number  of  candles.  Hot  yopon,  foaming  milk,  and 
sparkling  cider  were  served  in  fresh,  creamy-white 
gourds.  There  were  loaves  of  rich  bread,  hot  corn- 
pone,  generous  beefsteaks,  and  mutton  broils  hot  from 
the  coals.  Roasted  potatoes,  baked  apples,  domestic 
sauce  and  pickles  and  honey  dripping  with  its  golden 
sweetness.  Poor  fellows !  How  those  soldiers  feasted, 
and  in  the  months  that  followed  when  rations  were 
served,  how  often  would  they  talk  over  that  glorious 
breakfast  at  Uncle  Rafe  Gordon's  and  long  for  just 
one  more  meal  like  that. 

As  the  gray  light  of  the  coming  dawn  streaked  the 
east  and  gradually  grew  rosy,  the  bugle  sounded,  each 
trooper  fell  into  line,  and  Colonel  Paisly  walking  up 
to  Luke  Stallings  handed  him  a  folded  sheet  of  paper, 
saying   with   a   bland    smile,    "Captain    Stallings,   take 


AT   YORKTOWN  205 

command  of  your  troop;  here  is  your  commission.  I 
shall  have  quite  a  squadron  as  we  near  the  Virginia 
line;  another  company  will  join  us/' 

Luke  thanked  the  Colonel  for  having  sought  this  pro- 
motion for  him,  and  with  a  few  earnest  words  to  his 
men,  assumed  command,  and  then  his  voice  clear  and 
strong  rang  out  upon  the  morning  air :  "Attention !  We 
will  now  give  earnest  heed  to  the  parting  words  of  Dr. 
David  Caldwell." 

With  uncovered  heads  this  troop  of  patriots  stood 
like  bronzed  statues,  except  that  each  face  was  instinct 
with  intelligent  interest,  as  wise  words  of  cheer  and 
council  warmed  their  hearts  and  iixed  their  attention. 
Closing  his  impassioned  address,  the  doctor  lifted  his 
hands  reverently  in  prayer,  pleading  that  the  God  of 
battles  would  watch  over  each  patriot  soul,  nerve  them 
to  struggle  for  home  and  kindred,  crown  their  efforts 
with  success,  and  bring  them  all  to  hearth-stone  again 
if  the  great  purposes  of  life  were  thus  best  served. 
Were  any  to  sleep  their  last  sleep,  he  craved  for  them 
forgiveness  for  all  sin  through  Him  who  died  to  save, 
and  a  joyful  awakening  in  the  land   of  peace. 

There  was  a  pause  when  the  prayer  was  ended.  Dr. 
Caldwell,  Uncle  Rafe,  and  Aunt  Patsy  and  Mrs.  Paisly 
passed  down  the  line,  giving  each  soldier  a  cordial  hand- 
clasp and  a  "God  bless  you."  Boot  and  saddle  was 
then  sounded,  each  man  mounted  his  eager  steed,  they 
formed  in  fours,  and,  with  Colonel  Paisly,  Captain 
Stallings,  Lieutenants  Sheering  and  Joel  Sowell  at  the 
head  of  the  column,  they  soon  disappeared  from  view. 

"Promotion  seems  to  have  struck  Brush  Creek  pretty 
hard.  Colonel;  one  captain  and  two  lieutenants,"  said 
Luke  quizzically  as  they  rode  along  side  by  side. 

"Confidentially,   I   was   looking   for   the  best  men   I 


206  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

could  findj  Luke^  and  all  of  you  Chatham  fellows  are 
good  fighters  and  so  popular  with  the  men  they  will 
gladly  serve  under  you.  It  is  possible  when  we  get 
to  Yorktown  I  may  be  on  detached  service  with  Colonel 
John  Laurens,  who  is  a  warm  personal  friend  of  mine, 
and  is  much  trusted  by  General  Washington.  I  think 
so  much  of  my  boys  I  wish  to  leave  them  in  the  hands 
of  men  of  my  own  choosing,  and  you,  Luke,  are  my 
first  choice." 

"1  do  thank  you.  Colonel,  for  your  confidence,  and 
shall  endeavor  to  deserve  it,  although  I  think  it 
probable  Charley  Sheering  would  have  filled  the  place 
better." 

"Sheering  is  a  good  man,  Luke,  but  you  were  my 
first  choice,  and  I  know  will  not  disappoint  me. 
Sheering  is  next  in  command  and  will  do  his  full  duty. 
Should  anything  happen  to  you,  he  will  then  have  the 
responsibility  I  now  lay  on  you,  my  dear  fellow.  How 
did  you  part  with  that  dear  girl,  Luke?  Friendly,  I 
hope." 

"Yea,  Colonel.  Polly  Rutherford  was  as  sweet  and 
tender  to  me  as  heart  could  ask  and  is  more  precious 
to  me  than  ever;  but  her  dear  heart  is  divided,  and  I 
did  as  I  told  you  I  would." 

"You  didn't,  Luke.    How  could  you.^*" 

"A  conscientious  man  can  do  anything  that  he  feels 
it  to  be  his  duty  to  do.  Colonel.  I  told  the  dear  girl 
I  was  still  her  lover,  but  it  was  my  desire  that  she 
should  be  unpledged  to  anyone,  and  therefore  I  would 
release  her  from  her  promise  to  me,  while  she  would 
have  every  claim  upon  me  she  ever  had." 

"Did  she  agree  to  this?" 

"Very  reluctantly.  Colonel;  and  only  as  the  result 
of  my  persuasion.     We  will  have  to  let   affairs   drift 


AT   YORKTOWN  207 

until  Providence  decides  for  us;  and  whatever  is  the 
will  of  God  I  shall  submissively  acquiesce  in." 

Colonel  Paisly  turned  toward  Luke  as  they  rode  side 
by  side,  and,  reaching  for  and  grasping  his  right  hand, 
said,  "God  bless  and  preserve  you,  Luke;  you  are  all 
worthy  of  Polly's  love,  and  she  will  never  meet  on  this 
earth  a  truer  man/' 

On  the  evening  of  the  sixth  day  after  breaking  camp 
at  Rafe  Gordon's,  Colonel  Paisly  and  his  squadron, 
consisting  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  picked  men, 
having  crossed  James  river  at  a  place  known  now  as 
Micheaux's  Ferry  and  passed  around  to  the  north  of 
Richmond  and  then  south-eastward,  encamped  on  the 
Chickahominy  about  ten  miles  from  the  city.  They 
were  now  within  a  day's  march  of  the  two  armies  that 
were  so  soon  to  try  conclusions,  the  stake  being  the  life 
of  a  nation.  Cornwallis  had,  in  obedience  to  the  com- 
mand of  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  but  against  his  own  judg- 
ment, selected  Yorktown  within  the  broad  mouth  of 
the  York  river,  and  affording  a  safe  harbor  as  a  place 
to  entrench  and  defend.  He  had  expected  to  keep  open 
his  water  communication  and  from  this  stronghold  to 
sally  forth  from  time  to  time,  taking  and  holding  more 
and  more  of  Virginia  territory.  It  proved  to  be  what 
our  French  allies  called  a  cul-de-sac  in  a  double  sense, 
for  Yorktown  soon  had  an  opening  at  neither  end,  and 
might  have  been  called  a  barrel  with  neither  bung  nor 
faucet.  As  they  sat  by  the  camp  fire  that  night  on 
the  Chickahominy,  Colonel  Paisly  expressed  to  Luke  his 
determination  to  volunteer  as  an  aid  to  Colonel  Laurens, 
whom  he  was  sure  would  lead  in  some  daring  move- 
ment. 

"Take  some  of  our  boys  with  you,  Colonel,  and  let 
me  lead  them,"  said  Luke. 


208  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"For  Polly's  sake  I  do  not  think  I  ought  to  do  that, 
Luke;  you  will  be  in  danger  enough  from  infantry  and 
artillery  fire  all  around  Yorktown,  without  my  placing 
you  in  so  hazardous  a  jDosition  as  storming  a  redoubt 
when  'tis  not  immediately  in  your  line  of  duty." 

"I  very  much  desire  it,  Colonel,  and  my  duty  is  to 
do  a  soldier's  part  anywhere,  regardless  of  danger. 
Besides^  I  don't  want  to  see  you  go  into  danger, 
Colonel,  without  some  of  your  boys  to  look  after  your 
safety;  we  protest  against  that." 

"Suppose,  then,  I  volunteer  our  command  for  any 
hazardous  duty  in  which  Colonel  Laurens  may  need 
us?" 

"That  is  just  what  I  want;  I  have  no  desire.  Colonel, 
when  a  battle  is  going  on  and  golden  spurs  are  being 
won,  to  hang  around  the  edges  doing  vidette  duty; 
NO,  no." 

"You  are  a  game-cock,  Luke,  and  must  have  your 
way;  but  let  us  turn  in  under  our  blankets  for  the 
night  for  we  must  be  on  the  march  before  sunrise." 

The  following  afternoon  found  Paisly  and  his  com- 
mand leaving  James  river  to  their  right  as  they  headed 
from  Stone-house  road  toward  Yorktown,  taking  a  road 
across  the  peninsula  that  passed  not  far  from  Wil- 
liamsburg, a  road  that  had  been  well  worn  by  the  artil- 
lery and  infantry  of  Washington's  army  that  had  passed 
over  it  before  them.  As  they  drew  nearer  Yorktown, 
they  passed  a  number  of  wagon  camps,  and  the  boys 
had  never  before  seen  so  great  an  array  of  teams, 
wagons,  caissons,  and  men,  indicating  the  presence  of 
a  large  army.  The  magnitude  of  the  struggle  loomed 
up;  this  gathering  together  of  so  much  wealth  in  war 
material  and  men,  all  told  the  story  of  a  grand  effort 


AT   YORKTOWN  209 

for  the  establishing  of  a  free  people  in  their  possession 
of  life^  liberty  and  property. 

"This  looks  like  war,  Colonel,"  said  Luke. 

"Yea,  Luke,  and  I  like  the  drift  of  things.  I  had 
rather  be  Generals  Washington  and  La  Fayette  besieg- 
ing Yorktown  with  Count  De  Grasse  blockading  the 
York  river,  than  Cornwallis  the  besieged,  with  all  hi* 
seasoned  veterans." 

They  were  now  well  into  the  camps  scattered  on 
either  side  of  the  road,  and  Luke  dispatched  Joel 
Sowell  and  Sergeant  Mike  Kinsey  to  select  some  un- 
occupied spot,  which  was  soon  found  and  the  squadron 
was  halted.  The  work  of  going  into  camp  was  as 
methodically  done  as  if  the  boys  had  been  regulars. 
Horses  were  picketed  and  fed;  a  large  tent,  the  only 
one  of  which  the  command  could  boast,  was  pitched; 
the  detail  of  cooks  went  to  work  with  frying  pan  and 
skillet,  and  soon  the  smell  of  North  Carolina  bacon  and 
of  scorching  dough  told  of  the  near  approach  of  the 
evening  meal.  The  hum  of  voices  all  around  the  blaz- 
ing campfires,  the  marquees  of  some  of  the  general 
officers  that  were  in  sight,  the  distant  sound  of  army 
bands  as  the  music  trembled  on  the  evening  air,  the 
neighing  of  horses,  the  dashing  about  here  and  there 
of  couriers  bearing  to  each  part  of  the  camp  orders  or 
information,  the  passing  of  field  artillery  from  the  rear 
to  the  front  line,  relieving  other  batteries,  the  boom  of 
the  siege  guns  as  they  shot  forth  sheets  of  flame  from 
their  throats  in  the  gathering  twilight,  impressed  Luke 
and  the  Colonel  with  the  solemnity  as  well  as  the 
glamour  of  war. 

"War  is  stern,  war  is  grand  in  its  horrors,  solemn  in 
its  issues,"  said  Paisly. 

"And  still,"  said  Luke,  "in  a  righteous  cause  there 


210  THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

is  no  more  fitting  place  to  die  than  on  the  battle-field. 
Yielding  up  one's  life  for  the  well-being  of  others  is 
"what  the  Divine  INIaster  did.  And  now.  Colonel,  we 
shall  both  soon  stand  together  in  battle,  and  the  Death 
Angel  may  claim  one  or  both  of  us.  Promise  me  if  I 
fall  you  will  take  all  that  remains  of  me  to  Brush 
Creek,  and  have  me  buried  in  the  old  graveyard  at 
Skin  Quarter.  Should  I  survive  you.  Colonel,  I  will 
carry  your  remains  to  your  mother  and  see  them  laid 
beside  your  father  at  old  Buffalo.'* 

"  'Tis  well  to  have  such  an  understanding,  Luke,  but 
my  earnest  prayer  is  that  we  may  both  pass  through 
this  ordeal  in  safety.  Now  we  will  go  to  our  supper;  I 
hear  Kinsey's  summons,  and  after  supper  we  will  both 
go  over  to  the  headquarters  of  Colonel  Laurens.  I 
wish  you  to  meet  him,  for  he  is  a  man  both  the  Caro- 
linas  should  be  proud  of.  He  is  a  Percy  Hotspur  in 
dash,  with  the  heart  of  a  Chevalier  Bayard." 

While  they  were  engaged  in  discussing  a  rasher  of 
bacon  and  a  corn  pone.  Colonel  Paisley  asked  Sergeant 
Mike  Kinsey,  bugler  and  chef  de  cuisine,  a  know-all 
sort  of  fellow,  if  he  had  yet  located  any  of  the  general 
officers'  quarters,  and  could  tell  him  whether  Colonel 
Laurens'  marquee  was  very   far  away. 

"I  been  a-locatin'  them  big  general  fellows.  Colonel,'* 
said  Kinsey;  "it's  most  too  dark  to  see  'em  from  whar 
we  be  now,  but  General  Washington's  big  tent  ain't 
more'n  a  half  mile  from  here;  General  Rochambeau, 
that  Frenchman,  has  quarters  in  sight  o'  his'n,  and  you 
may  be  sure  you  will  find  Colonel  Laurens  not  far  from 
thar;  'twon't  take  you  more'n  twenty  minutes  to  find 
him.'* 

"That  is  very  satisfactory,  indeed,  Kinsey;  suppose 
we  walk,  Luke."     And  soon  they  were  threading  their 


AT   YORKTOWN  211 

way  through  a  perfect  labyrinth  of  tents  and  camp- 
fires  and  were  halted  by  the  marquee  guard  a  little  dis- 
tance from  a  large  tent  with  a  bright  fire  burning  in 
front  of  it.  Colonel  Paisly  made  known  their  desire  to 
see  Colonel  Laurens,  and  the  sentry  called  out, 
''Sergeant  of  the  guard,  officers  to  see  Colonel  Laurens." 

The  sergeant  came  promptly  forward,  saluted  Colonel 
Paisly  and  Luke,  and  conducted  them  to  the  bright 
fire,  saying,  "Wait  a  moment,  gentlemen.  Colonel 
Laurens  was  engaged  a  little  while  ago,  and  he  may 
since  have  gone  over  to  General  Washington's  marquee; 
I  will  see." 

Soon  returning,  he  conducted  the  visitors  to  the 
entrance,  saying,  "You  will  find  the  Colonel  within, 
gentlemen." 

"Welcome,  John  Paisly!  How  glad  I  am  to  see  you; 
but  I  thought  you  were  with  General  Greene,"  and  the 
handsome  face  and  soldierly  form  of  Colonel  John 
Laurens  as  well  as  his  voice,  gave  Paisly  welcome. 

"A  glad  shake,  old  comrade;  I  am  more  than  glad  to 
see  you  once  more,  and  I  left  General  Greene  so  well 
ahead  of  Rawdon  that  my  little  squadron  could  well 
be  spared.  I  wish  to  introduce  to  you  fighting  Captain 
Luke  Stallings,  who  commands  the  best  volunteer  com- 
pany I  ever  saw.  Luke,  this  is  my  friend.  Colonel 
John  Laurens." 

Luke  acknowledged  the  introduction  by  extending  his 
hand  and  saying  in  hearty  tones,  "I  am  pleased  to  meet 
you.  Colonel  Laurens;  I  have  heard  Colonel  Paisly 
speak  of  you  so  often,  you  are  no  stranger;  may  we 
know  each  other  better." 

"Be  seated,  friends,  if  you  can  find  a  stool  each;  I 
was  just  examining  our  engineer's   report  and  plan  of 


212  THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

the  enemy's  lines  of  fortification.  Perhaps  you  and 
Captain  Stallings  would  like  a  peep  at  them,  Paisly?" 

"Indeed  we  would,  Laurens,  and  while  we  examine 
them  I  wish  to  volunteer,  not  only  my  own  services,  but 
those  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  as  brave  men  as  ever 
faced  an  enemy.  'Tis  a  cavalry  squadron,  but  as  dis- 
mounted men  we  wish  any  post  of  danger  or  honor  you 
may  assign  to  us.  Luke  here  would  grieve  sorely  if 
he  is  not  permitted  to  share  in  storming  the  enemies* 
works,  and  he  is  one  of  the  few  men  I  ever  saw  that 
is  just  spoiling  for  a  fight." 

"The   time  is   nearly   ripe   for  an   assault   upon  two 

redoubts  that  must  be  taken;  they  lie  just  here '* 

and  Colonel  Laurens  pointed  with  his  finger  to  two 
spots  on  the  parchment  before  him.  "I  cannot  use  all 
your  force,  as  we  are  carefully  picking  our  men  from 
among  the  tried  and  tested,  and  have  more  offers  of 
service  than  we  can  accept.  You  may  select  from  your 
company.  Captain  Stallings,  fifty  men,  and  you  may 
lead  them;  the  remainder  of  your  force,  Paisly,  may 
be  sent  over  to  Gloucester  Point;  there  will  be  some 
good  fighting  there,  I  think.'* 

**I  have  two  good  men  who  can  lead  the  remainder 
of  our  force,  Laurens,  wherever  they  may  be  assigned. 
I  shall  stay  with  you  and  Luke." 

"That  suits  me,  Paisly,  and  I  shall  go  into  the  fight 
feeling  that  I  am  well  supported.  I  will  notify  you 
when  we  are  ready,  and  the  time  is  not  distant  now;  a 
matter  of  a  few  hours." 

The  remainder  of  this  visit  was  taken  up  in  recalling 
old  camp  scenes,  and  talking  of  mutual  friends  and 
kindred  in  the  Carolinas.  So  it  was  quite  midnight 
before  Paisly  and  Luke  reached  their  tent  and  sought 
slumber  beneath  their  blankets. 


AT  YORKTOWN  213 

The  supreme  moment  at  last  arrived.  The  assault- 
ing force  consisted  of  picked  men  from  the  French 
army  who  undertook  the  reduction  of  one  redoubt, 
while  Colonels  Hamilton  and  Laurens  with  a  select 
force  from  the  American  army  took  the  post  of  honor 
in  the  reduction  of  the  other.  Our  men,  led  by  Luke 
Stallings  and  Colonels  Hamilton,  Laurens  and  Paisly, 
advanced  with  steady  step  until  they  reached  the  abatis, 
a  mass  of  felled  trees  and  sharpened  stakes  bristling  in 
front  of  them,  backed  up  by  high  palisades  of  timber. 
There  was  no  pause;  onward  swept  this  living  tide  of 
men  over  sharp  spikes,  swinging  themselves  up,  up, 
climbing  like  squirrels,  until  the  top  of  the  palisades 
was  reached,  then  with  a  shout  dropping  down  into  the 
ditches  only  to  meet  hand  to  hand  and  bayonet  to 
bayonet  the  foe  they  sought.  The  clash  of  sword  and 
bayonet,  the  shouts  of  the  struggling  men,  the  groans  of 
the  wounded  and  dying,  betokened  a  deadly  struggle, 
but  the  allies  were  there  to  win  or  die  and  fought  with 
a  desperation  that  their  foes  could  not  resist.  Luke 
Stallings  was  one  of  the  first  to  climb  over  all  obstruc- 
tions into  the  redoubt,  and  was  met  by  a  stalwart 
British  soldier  whom  he  cut  down  before  him  with  his 
sword  like  a  stalk  of  grain  before  a  scythe.  Soon  he 
was  surrounded  by  three  men,  each  endeavoring  to  pin 
him  to  the  earth,  two  with  their  bayonets,  one  with  a 
broadsword;  and  the  uneven  struggle  was  kept  up 
fiercely,  Luke  managing  to  disable  two  of  his  assail- 
ants, when  a  thrust  made  by  the  other  (a  brawny 
Scotchman),  who  wielded  his  huge  broadsword  with 
great  skill,  pierced  Luke  in  the  right  breast  and  he  fell 
at  the  feet  of  his  foe  just  as  Colonel  Paisly  came  to 
his  help  and  succeeded  in  disabling  the  man  who  had 
wounded  his  beloved  friend. 


214  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"Are  you  much  hurt,  Luke?"  asked  Paisly  tenderly 
as  he  leaned  for  a  moment  over  him. 

"Yes,  Colonel,  it's  my  last  call;  don't  think  of  me. 
On  with  the  fight,  I  hear  shouts  of  victory." 

The  fighting  swept  Paisly  swiftly  away  from  his 
comrade,  and  for  some  time  he  was  engaged  in  desperate 
combat  and  marvelously  escaped  serious  wounding. 
Such  fighting  brought  a  complete  victory,  and  soon 
both  redoubts  were  in  the  hands  of  the  victors,  and 
the  ambulance  corps  and  surgeons  began  the  gruesome 
work  of  gathering  up  the  dead  and  wounded.  Colonel 
Paisly  had  found  his  way  back  to  poor  Luke  immedi- 
ately after  the  fighting  ceased,  bringing  with  him  the 
surgeon  of  his  command.  The  ugly  broadsword  thrust 
was  not  far  from  the  heart,  and  Luke  had  lost  much 
blood  and  was  fast  failing  in  strength  when  the  sur- 
geon reached  him.  A  stimulant  was  administered,  and 
Doctor  Carmichael  proceeded  to  close  the  gaping 
wound  and  staunch  the  flow;  then  a  stretcher  was 
brought  and  borne  tenderly  by  Colonel  Paisly,  Colonel 
Laurens,  and  two  members  of  Luke's  company,  the  poor 
fellow  was  carried  to  the  marquee  in  which  he  had  slept 
the  night  before,  followed  by  those  of  his  sorrowing 
company  that  were  not  kept  on  guard  duty  at  the 
redoubt. 

Taking  Dr.  Carmichael  aside.  Colonel  Paisly  sorrow- 
fully consulted  him  as  to  Luke's  chance  to  survive  what 
all  his  friends  saw  was  a  most  dangerous  wound.  "It 
looks  hopeless,  doctor,  but  is  there  no  hope.^  Luke  is 
so  strong  and  is  such  a  perfect  man;  may  he  not 
rally?" 

"With  stimulants  he  may  be  kept  here  a  few  hours. 
Colonel,  but  Captain  Stallings  is  doomed.  I  think  there 
is   now   internal   injury    and    bleeding,    and    when    the 


AT   YORKTOWN  215 

fountain  of  life  grows  weaker  and  weaker  he  will  pass 
away.** 

Walking  into  the  tent.  Colonel  Paisly  took  a  seat  on 
a  camp  stool  by  the  couch  on  which  Luke  lay,  and, 
clasping  his  nerveless  hand  between  both  of  his,  watched 
his  dying  friend's  face  for  some  gleam  of  recognition. 

Responding  to  the  gentle  pressure  of  Paisly's  hand, 
Luke  turned  his  bright  but  fading  eyes  upon  his  friend, 
and  said  in  low  tones,  "John  Paisly,  I  am  dying  for 
my  country;  dying  in  the  hour  of  her  victory." 

"I  am  praying,  Luke,  my  dear  friend,  that  God  will 
spare  you.'* 

"No,  no,  John  Paisly,  *tis  best  so.  God  knows  what 
is  best.  Tell  my  darling  Polly  Rutherford  I  died  pray- 
ing for  her  happiness.  Tell  Dr.  Caldwell  I  died  in 
full  hope  of  a  glorious  immortality.  Tell  Daddy  Scur- 
lock  and  Aunt  Mandy  their  boy  Luke  loved  them  to  the 
last,  and  died  like  a  soldier  should,  and  he  wishes  to 
sleep  until  resurrection  dawn  in  the  old  graveyard  at 
Skin  Quarter.  I  know  they  will  give  my  poor  body  a 
resting  place.  And  now,  John  Paisly,  a  few  words 
more,  for  I  shall  soon  be  past  talking.  Protect  Polly 
Rutherford,  and  cherish  her  as  your  own  life;  her 
parents  are  getting  old,  and  I  shall  die  easier  to  know 
that  you  will  be  a  friend  to  her.'* 

The  manly  form  of  Colonel  Paisly  trembled  with 
emotion  and  great  tears  dropped  from  his  over-charged 
eyes  and  a  great  sob  was  in  his  voice  as  he  strove  to 
speak.  "My  more  than  friend,  my  brother,  it  wrings 
my  heart  to  see  you  die  and  I  so  powerless  to  win  you 
back  to  life  and  happiness.  But  your  patriotic  death 
shall  be  an  inspiration  to  me,  and  I  shall  cherish  you 
in  my  heart  as  long  as  heart  and  memory  endure.  Miss 
Polly  Rutherford  shall  never  lack  a  friend,  a  protector. 


216  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

as  long  as  I  live,  and^  dear  friend,  I  shall  only  be  to 
her  what  her  heart  desires  and  God  approves.  I  will 
never  thrust  myself  upon  her  sacred  grief  and  seclusion, 
except  as  a  mourner  with  her  for  the  loss  of  our  dearest 
friend  and  her  lover." 

"In  the  coming  years,  John  Paisly,  grief  will  run  its 
course,  and  it  may  be  that  Polly  Rutherford  would 
have  you  nearer  to  her  than  a  friend.  Be  that  so,  re- 
member the  dying  words  of  Luke  Stallings  were  for 
God's  blessing  upon  you  both.  And  now,  I  am  not 
strong  enough  to  say  farewell  to  all  my  boys;  but  let 
them  form  and  march  through  the  tent  that  I  may  take 
a  last  look  at  them  until  we  meet  at  roll-call  up  yonder." 

This  last  order  of  the  beloved  Captain  was  obeyed 
silently,  and  with  streaming  eyes  those  bronzed  and 
war-worn  soldiers  took  a  last  look  at  their  captain;  and 
as  the  last  man  filed  past  his  couch  Luke  raised  his 
right  hand  to  a  salute,  and  brought  a  deep  breath  as  he 
exclaimed,  "Oh,  grave,  where  is  thy  victory!"  and  the 
spirit  of  Captain  Luke  Stallings  had  followed  to  the 
home  of  the  ransomed  the  Captain  of  his  salvation. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE    WEDDING    AT    SHAw's    CROSS    ROADS 

"Mandy,  what  do  you  s'pose  has  become  of  Doctor 
Tony?  He  hain't  been  over  here  now  for  nearly  two 
weeks,  and  that  is  amazin'/'  said  Daddy  Scurlock  as 
he  sat  on  the  porch  one  evening  after  supper,  holding 
Roxy  Sowell's  baby  whom  she  had  named  Anthony 
Scurlock.  Aunt  Mandy  and  Roxy  each  filled  an  arm 
chair  and  were  busy  knitting  by  twilight. 

"Courtin',"  was  Aunt  Mandy's  quaint  reply,  adding, 
"Tony  Sidebottom  and  Cynthy  Shaw  have  lost  so  much 
enjoyable  time  from  sweetheartin'  they  are  a  tryin'  to 
catch  up." 

"For  the  land's  sake !  I  don't  know  what  they  are  a 
waitm    tor. 

"Nor  I,"  said  Roxy;  "and,  really,  'tis  a  sure  enough 
sensible  match,  Aunt  Mandy.  Doctor  Tony  needs  a  wife, 
and  Cynthy  is  just  the  girl  that  will  suit  him.  Won't 
she  clean  out  the  ratholes  and  cuddies  at  Hardscrabble, 
that  haven't  been  swept  since  I  was  a  baby !  You  won't 
know  that  old  place  when  Cynthy  gets  hold  of  it." 

"Didn't  you  hear  some  one  at  the  horse-rack,  Mandy? 
Tears  like  some  one  rode  up  thar  just  now,"  said 
Daddy. 

"Yes,  old  man;  and  speakin*  of  Doctor  Tony,  I'll 
venture  'tis  he;  it's  high  time  he  was  a  turnin*  up." 

"Here,  Roxy,  take  little  Tony  Scurlock  and  I  will  go 
and  see  who  'tis  anyway,"  and  Daddy  tenderly  placed 

217, 


218  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

the  baby  in  his  mother's  arms  and  walked  down  to  the 
gate. 

"Hello,  Amen/'  was  the  salutation  of  Doctor  Tony, 
as  with  saddle-bags  over  his  left  arm  he  came  to  meet 
Scurlock. 

"You  are  a  pretty  fellow,  Tony  Sidebottom." 

"So  Cynthy  tells  me,  Amen." 

"She  was  a  long  time  findin'  it  out,  Tony,  and  no 
woman  ever  discovered  it  before." 

"Daggone  if  that  ain't  so.  Amen;  but  it's  quite  a  sen- 
sation to  have  a  woman  discover  it." 

"Come  in,  come  in,  you  lovesick  loon,  and  give  an 
account  of  yourself.  Mandy  has  just  been  wonder- 
ing what  had  become  of  ye." 

"I  said  so,"  exclaimed  Aunt  Mandy,  as  she  gave 
Doctor  Tony  a  handshake.  "Have  you  had  supper.'' 
Did  you  come  from  home  or  the  cross  roads  .^" 

"Well,  suppose  ye  ask  a  few  more  questions  hand- 
runnin'.  Aunt  Mandy;  but  before  ye  do  I'll  answer 
these.  I  am  just  from  the  cross  roads,  and  Cynthy 
gave  me  supper  before  I  started." 

"Then  you  feel  quite  sassy,  and  are  not  beholdin'  to 
me  for  any  supper." 

"Not  to-night.  Aunt  Mandy,  but,  let  me  tell  ye,  there 
is  no  place  in  this  province  where  I  enjoy  myself  in 
the  eatin'  way  as  I  do  at  Skin  Quarter.  I  told  Cynthy 
this  evening  if  she  just  would  keep  such  a  house  at 
Hardscrabble  as  you  did  here  I  would  think  I  had  got 
to  the  promised  land.  But  I  haven't  spoken  to  Roxy 
and  Tony  Scurlock.  How  do  you  do,  Roxy?  and  let 
me  kiss  the  baby;  I  shaved  clean  this  mornin'.'* 

Roxy  gave  Doctor  Tony  a  hearty  greeting,  and  baby 
cooed  and  puffed  his  rosy  cheeks  at  him  with  a  gurgling 
sound  that  Roxy  interpreted  as  "howdy-do.'* 


WEDDING   AT   SHAW'S   CROSS  ROADS    219 

"And  now/'  resumed  Aunt  Mandy,  when  Doctor 
Tony  had  settled  into  an  armchair  and  lit  his  pipe, 
"when  do  you  expect  to  reach  the  promised  land.  Doctor 
Tony?" 

"Daggoned  soon,  Aunt  Mandy.  I  wish  it  had  all 
been  over  before  Luke  and  Joel  and  Charley  went  away 
and  Polly  Rutherford  went  to  Guilford.  Looks  as  if 
I  would  be  lonesome  gettin'  married  and  all  my  best 
friends  among  the  young  folks  gone  away." 

"Have  you  set  the  day.  Doctor  Tony?" 

"Yes,  Cynthy  has  agreed  to  have  it  over  and  done 
with,  and  on  next  Thursday  we  shall  expect  all  our 
friends  to  come  up  to  the  cross  roads  and  see  the 
splicin'  done  in  good  style." 

"Who  have  you  got  to  tie  the  knot?" 

"Why,  who  else  can  we  get  but  old  Father  Rowe,  and, 
if  experience  goes  for  anything,  he  ought  to  do  it  as 
well  as  anybody.  I've  seen  him  weld  wagin  tire  many 
a  time,  and  what  he  puts  together  don't  come  apart 
easy,  and  Cynthy  and  me  want  to  be  welded  for  life, 
hit  or  miss,  better  or  for  worse." 

"That's  the  right  talk.  Doctor  Tony,  and  Mandy 
Scurlock's  word  for  it,  if  you  do  your  part  by  Cynthy 
Shaw  you  will  have  reached  the  promised  land,  for  she 
is  hard  to  match.  Have  you  seen  old  Father  Rowe 
about  it  yet.  Doctor  Tony?" 

"Trust  a  woman  to  find  out  things.  Yes;  old  Blaze 
wanted  a  new  shoe,  and  I  rode  by  thar  and  had  quite 
a  chat  with  the  old  man.  Found  him  at  the  forge,  his 
face  smutted  with  charcoal,  his  sleeves  rolled  up,  and 
hammerin'  away  for  dear  life.  Says  I,  'Howdy,  Par- 
son; can  ye  stop  long  enough  to  put  a  shoe  on  Blaze?' 
He  looked  up,  laid  down  his  sledge,  and,  telling  his 
striker  how  to  finish  the  job,  he  said,  'Howdy,  Tony; 


220  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

always  got  time  to  shoe  a  good  horse,  Tony.  Had  him 
ten  years,  hain't  ye?'  'Just  about/  says  I,  and  then 
while  he  was  a  trimmin'  Blaze's  right  forefoot  I  axed 
him  if  he  wa'n't  good  at  splicin'  things  so  they  wouldn't 
come  apart.  'That's  part  o'  my  business/  says  he,  and 
then  I  up  and  tells  him  that  Cynthy  Shaw  and  me  had 
agreed  to  be  sj^liced  on  Thursday  of  next  week,  and  we 
wanted  him  to  do  the  job,  and  that  when  the  job  was 
done  I  would  send  him  as  a  fee  one  of  the  finest  yearlin' 
heifers,  a  calf  of  my  old  Blossom,  in  Chatham  County. 
The  old  parson  gave  a  loud  whistle,  slapped  me  on  the 
back,  and  said,  *I  always  thought  you  had  a  lot  o'  good 
sense,  Tony  Sidebottom,  and  now  I  know  it.  I  will  be 
sartin  to  be  thar.  Providence  not  a  hinderin',  and 
nothin'  but  death  will  part  the  weldin'  I  shall  then  do; 
God  A'mighty  sartinly  smiled  on  ye  when  he  sent  you 
Cynthy.'  Now,  Aunt  Mandy,  you  know  all  the  ins  and 
outs  of  the  whole  business,  and  of  course  you  will  all 
be  thar,  and  so  will  Corneal  Tyson  and  Hannah 
Sheering." 

"We  shall  certainly  be  there,  barrin'  accidents,  and 
old  Anachy  shall  bake  Cynthy  a  weddin'  cake  with  egg 
and  sugar  frostin'  all  over  it;  and  we  will  send  her 
over  a  fat  gobbler,  a  pig,  and  a  saddle  of  mutton  for 
the  feast.  I'll  do  better  than  that,  Dr.  Tony;  I'll  send 
Anachy  up  to  the  cross  roads  a  Monday  to  stay  and  do 
the  cookin',  for  Cynthy  shan't  be  worried  and  worn  out 
gettin'  ready." 

"I  wonder  how  Cynthy  is  along  with  her  sewing. 
Doctor  Tony?"  asked  Roxy. 

"Can't  say;  hain't  got  that  fur  on  in  our  acquaint- 
ance, but  she's  been  a  sewin'  on  somethin'  every  time 
I've  been  thar  for  a  month  past;  I  don't  guess  though 
a  little  help  would  hurt,  Roxy." 


WEDDING    AT    SHAW'S    CROSS   ROADS    221 

"Well,  when  Aunt  Mandy  sends  Anachy  up  on  Mon- 
day, I  will  take  baby  and  go  along  and  spend  the  time 
with  Cynthy  and  will  help  her  all  I  can  between  Mon- 
day and  Thursday." 

"Daggoned  if  you  women  folks  don't  make  me  feel 
like  blubberin';  you  are  so  kind  to  Cynthy  and  me. 
Since  this  cussed  war  broke  loose,  I  have  been  a  thinkin' 
the  world  belonged  to  the  devil  and  things  was  all 
wrong  end  foremost ;  but  findin'  Cynthy  and  then  havin' 
sich  friends  as  you  are  puts  a  smile  on  everything;  God 
bless  ye.  Have  ye  heard  anything  from  Polly  Ruther- 
ford since  Luke  and  the  boys  left,  Aunt  Mandy?" 

"Not  a  blessed  word.  Doctor  Tony;  looks  as  if  Polly 
Rutherford  had  about  as  well  be  in  furreign  parts  for 
all  the  word  I  can  get  from  her.  You  haven't  got  an- 
other letter  for  me  in  your  bootleg?" 

"No  indeed,  wish  I  had;  I  heard  the  other  day  that 
General  Greene  had  walloped  Rawdon  clean  out  at 
Eutaw  Springs.  Our  boys  hadn't  had  time  to  get  thar, 
as  the  fight  took  place  nigh  onto  three  weeks  or  more 
ago.  Tim  Shaw  is  a  pretty  good  barometer,  Amen,  and 
I  can  always  tell  how  the  king's  cause  is  goin'  by  the 
way  he  talks.  You  know  he  has  been  kinder  astraddle 
of  the  fence,  no  Quaker,  for  he's  a  hardshell  and 
b'lieves  in  deep  water  salvation;  but  he's  ag'in'  fightin'. 
Well,  t'other  night  I  was  a  talkin'  to  him  and  tellin' 
him  whar  I  thought  all  good  people  b'longed,  and  dag- 
goned  if  he  didn't  agree  with  me.  In  fact,  he  told  me 
that  at  first  he  thought  the  king  was  right,  but  since 
he  had  sent  such  men  as  Dave  Fannin'  to  worry,  harry, 
and  kill,  and  to  burn  and  destroy  our  property,  he  was 
ag'in'  the  whole  business  and  wasn't  sorry  when  he 
heard  that  the  Royalists  got  licked." 

"I  think,  myself,"  said  Amen,  "that  the  royal  cause 


222  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

is  on  its  last  legs,  and  all  four  of  the  legs  sprained. 
If  we  could  only  get  the  province  rid  of  such  fellows 
as  Dave  Fannin',  we  might  soon  hope  for  peace.'* 

"I  am  anxious  to  hear  from  Virginia  just  now,  Amen; 
if  we  can  only  overthrow  Cornwallis  and  break  up  his 
army  these  plunderers  like  Fannin'  will  have  to  leave 
the  country." 

"That's  so,  Tony;  but  the  more  our  folks  lick  the 
British,  the  worse  Fannin'  seems  to  get,  and  I'm  afeard 
to  bring  Polly  Rutherford  home  yet  a  while." 

"Wouldn't  think  of  bringin'  Polly  Rutherford  home 
until  the  spring.  Amen;  she's  safe  with  David  Cald- 
well, and  'tis  norated  that  she  is  a  studyin'  hard  and 
larnin'  a  whole  lot  of  Latin,  Greek,  and  figgers." 

"That's  so,"  said  Aunt  Mandy;  "Colonel  Paisly  told 
me  when  he  was  here  that  Doctor  Caldwell  said  Polly 
Rutherford  was  smarter  at  figgers  and  tongues  than 
any  boy  around  Buffalo  or  Alamance,  and  he  was  proud 
to  have  her  larn  all  he  could  teach  her.  It's  mighty 
gratifyin',  but  hard  though  to  have  the  dear  child  so 
far  away ;  but,  land  sakes !  'tis  most  ten  o'clock ;  we 
mustn't  talk  all  night.  I'm  going  to  bed,  and  Roxy 
and  baby  ought  to  have  been  asleep  an  hour  ago.  Your 
bed  is   all  ready.   Doctor    Tony;   just  go   into  Luke's 


room." 


The  eventful  Thursday  of  next  week  arrived  and 
found  Cynthy  Shaw  and  her  wedding  a  strong  magnet, 
drawing  about  her  many  kind  neighbors  and  friends, 
and  the  old  house  at  the  cross  roads  promised  to  be 
crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity.  Early  in  the  after- 
noon. Corneal  Tyson  and  Hannah  Sheering  with  the 
children  had  arrived,  and  they  were  soon  followed  by 
Amen  Scurlock,  Aunt  Mandy,  Roxy,  and  Master  Tony 
Scurlock  Sowell.     Tim  Shaw  gave  his  guests  a  blunt 


WEBBING   AT   SHAW'S    CROSS   ROABS    22 S 

and  heai;ty  reception_,  taking  the  men  into  his  room 
where  a  bright  lightwood  fire  had  banished  the  chill  of 
the  autumn  air_,  and  where,  on  an  old  cherry  sideboard 
of  his  own  making,  sat  a  decanter  of  rum  and  a  few 
rare  glass  tumblers,  while  a  box  of  tobacco  and  pipes 
enough  to  go  around  awaited  them  on  a  little  circular 
table. 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  said  Tim,  "this  is  yer  last  chance 
to  drink  fa'r  to  a  bride  in  Tim  Shaw's  house.  Doctor 
Tony  Sidebottom  is  goin'  to  take  my  Cynthy  away,  and 
the  gal's  heart  seems  to  be  set  on  it.  Tony  is  a  good 
man,  but  Cynthy  is  a  better  woman,  and  he's  a  goin' 
to  get  the  best  end  of  the  bargain.  But  I'll  not  say 
anything  ag'in'  it,  and  the  gal  shall  go  from  the  cross 
roads   to   Hardscrabble   with  my  blessing." 

Just  then  the  short  stout  figure  of  Parson  Davy  Rowe 
darkened  the  doorway,  and  Tim  Shaw  espying  him 
called  out,  "Welcome,  Pa'son;  come  in.  We  are  just 
about  to  drink  to  the  future  happiness  of  my  Cynthy 
and  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom;  come  in,  come  in." 

Advancing  to  meet  Tim's  broad,  brown  hand.  Parson 
Rowe  shook  it  heartily,  then  greeted  Tyson  and  Scur- 
lock  in  like  manner,  saying,  "Howdy,  all.  'Pears  like 
ye  are  fixin'  for  the  fatted  calf,  the  music  and  the 
dancin'.  I  s'pose  Doctor  Tony  is  the  prodigal  son,  and 
ye  are  about  to  drink  to  his  comin'.  Now,  I  am  ag'in' 
drinkin'  on  principle,  ye  all  know  that,  but  thar  are 
times  when  a  very  leetle  taken  for  the  stomach's  sake 
and  the  of  ting  infirmity  is  'lowable.  Tim,  ye  may  jest 
pour  me  out  about  two  fingers  in  that  tumbler  and  add 
a  leetle  water." 

"Two  o'  your  fingers  or  mine.  Parson?  It  makes  a 
lot  o'  difference,  bein'  as  your  fingers  is  powerful  thick." 

*As  I  have  to  take  the  dram,  Tim^  jest  measure  by 


*( 


224.  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

mine.  Ah !  that's  'bout  right.  Here's  to  the  health 
of  Tony  Sidebottom  and  Cynthy;  may  they  live  long 
together^  live  happy,  and  die  when  they  can't  help  it. 
Amen." 

All  drank  to  this  toast  given  by  Parson  Rowe,  the 
parson  then  adding  in  solemn  manner,  "Drink  light, 
friends;  Tim  Shaw  is  as  famous  for  his  good  old  rum 
as  Amen  Scurlock  thar  for  his  peach  and  honey;  much 
of  either  is  dangersome;  remember,  it  made  a  fool  o' 
Noah  once." 

"Did  Noah  get  drunk  on  rum,  apple  jack,  or  peach 
and  honey,  Pa'son?"  questioned  Tim  Shaw. 

"I  have  always  thought  it  must  'a'  been  peach  and 
honey,  Tim,  although  thar  was  plenty  o'  vineyards  and 
wine  about.  Leastwise,  if  I  had  a  been  Noah  and  was 
goin'  to  git  drunk,  I  should  sartinly  have  took  peach 
and  honey;  but  I  hope  Noah  is  not  goin'  to  be  imitated 
in  that  manner  here  to-night;  let  us  all  tetch  light." 

While  Tim  was  entertaining  the  gentlemen  in  his 
room.  Aunt  Mandy,  Roxy  Sowell,  Hannah  Sheering  and 
the  children  were  ushered  by  Cynthy  into  the  best  room 
where  a  cheerful  fire  awaited  them  and  everything 
looked  bright  and  tidy  there.  There  were  late  roses, 
golden-rod,  and  other  late  wild  flowers  all  about  the 
room  in  earthen  jars,  while  holly  and  cedar  boughs 
were  grouped  in  an  artistic  way  in  the  corners  and 
about  the  high  mantle-shelf. 

"Bless  your  dear  heart,  Cynthy,"  exclaimed  Aunt 
Mandy,  "you  have  got  everything  lookin'  just  beautiful, 
and  you  are  more  beautiful  than  everything  else.  Are 
you  not  a'most  tired  to  death,  poor  child?" 

"No  indeed.  Aunt  Mandy;  your  sending  Aunt  Anachy 
over  took  a  world  of  worry  off  of  me,  and  then  Roxy 
did  as  much  of  all  this  as   I  did.     So,  thanks  to  my 


WEDDING  AT  SHAW'S  CROSS  ROADS      225 

friends,  I  feel  as  fresh  as  a  daisy.  Now_,  when  you 
have  had  a  sip  of  gooseberry  wine  and  get  real  warm, 
come  into  my  room  and  I  will  show  you  Daddy  Shaw's 
wedding  present  made  by  his  own  hands,  and  some 
other  presents,  too." 

Curiosity  overcame  all  desire  for  more  warmth,  and 
the  gooseberry  wine  was  sipped  in  great  haste,  when 
the  whole  party  followed  Cynthy  into  the  bridal  cham- 
ber. There  their  eyes  were  amazed  by  finding  a  beau- 
tifully polished  bureau  and  bedstead  with  table  and 
chairs  to  match,  all  of  solid  oak,  and  shining  like  gold. 
The  floor  was  covered  with  a  rag  carpet  of  Cynthy's 
own  weaving,  and  in  a  pattern  she  had  designed.  There 
in  the  chimney-corner  sat  a  set  of  shovel  and  tongs, 
made  and  polished  by  Parson  Rowe's  own  hands,  and 
presented  as  a  wedding  gift.  The  bed  was  covered  with 
a  snowy  white  quilt,  a  gift  from  Aunt  Mandy.  Han- 
nah Sheering  had  presented  Cynthy  with  a  beautiful 
shawl  Uncle  Tyson  had  obtained  through  one  of  his 
Tory  friends  at  Wilmington,  and  Roxy  had  brought  her 
six  pairs  of  soft  lambswool  stockings  of  her  own  spin- 
ning and  knitting. 

"My  dear  friends,  I  am  rich !"  exclaimed  Cynthy,  as 
she  kissed  every  one  in  turn,  beginning  with  Aunt 
Mandy;  "but  I  am  richest  in  friends;  you  are  all  so 
good  to  me.  One  has  to  have  something  like  this  hap- 
pen to  them  to  find  out  how  many  friends  they  have 
got."  And  Cynthy's  quaint  allusion  to  her  coming  mar- 
riage produced  a  merry  laugh. 

Just  at  sunset  the  groom  arrived,  and  old  Blaze  was 
taken  to  the  stable  and  royally  fed,  while  his  master 
was  ushered  into  Tim's  room  and  warmly  greeted  by 
his  friends. 

"Thar  comes   the  man  the  occasion  waits  for!'*  ex- 


226  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

claimed  Father  Rowe;  "how  do  the  bridegroom-elect 
feel?" 

"Like  a  peacock  in  full  feather,  or,  as  my  friend. 
Corneal  Tyson  thar,  would  say,  I  am  as  spry  as  a 
three-year-old  in  a  grass  patch." 

"Stand  up  and  spin  around,  Tony!"  exclaimed  Cor- 
neal Tyson.  "Gentlemen,  just  look  how  Dr.  Anthony 
Sidebottom  is  rigged  out.  A  brand-new  black  home- 
spun suit,  white  linen,  ruffled  shirt,  silver  shoe  buckles, 
silk  stockings ;  whew !  hunt  me  a  wife,  too,  Tony." 

"What  you  ought  to  ha'  done  for  yourself  long  years 
ago.  Corneal  Tyson;  a  man  by  himself  is  like  one 
side  o'  a  pair  o'  shears,  and  needs  t'other  side  to  make 
him  much  account,"  said  Father  Rowe. 

"Can't  agree  with  ye,  Passon;  I  am  a  good  piece  o* 
steel,  but  wa'n't  intended  to  be  fashioned  into  shears, 
but  make  a  pretty  fa'r  jackknife  that  will  whittle  whips 
and  whistles  for  other  people's  children.  Now,  Tony 
Sidebottom  is  a-doin'  the  right  thing,  but  Corneal  Ty- 
son will  jest  hold  on  to  his  maiden  name." 

This  quaint  announcement  produced  a  laugh  that  was 
contagious,  and  its  echoes  were  heard  in  different  keys 
all  over  the  rambling  house. 

"Now,"  said  Tim  Shaw,  *'we  must  all  brace  up 
ag'in  for  the  final  act  in  this  drama;  I  propose  a  health, 
long  life  and  prosperity  to  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom," 
and  Tim  proceeded  to  fill  the  glasses.  All  arose  from 
their  seats,  and  Father  Rowe  said  solemnly,  "Remem- 
ber, friends,  Tim  Shaw's  rum  is  very  seductions ;  tetch 
light;  tetch  light.  How  many  fingers  in  my  tumbler, 
Tim?" 

"A  leetle  the  rise  o'  two  by  your  measure,  Passon." 

"Ah,  that's  a  plenty;  let  us  all  remember  Noah." 


WEBBING    AT    SHAW'S    CROSS   ROABS    227 

"I  thought  we  was  remembering  Tony  Sidebottom/* 
said  Corneal   Tyson  with  a  merry  laugh. 

"And  so  we  be.  Corneal/'  said  the  parson,  "but  I 
only  meant  that  in  partakin'  of  Tim's  remarkable  good 
rum  we  should  not  forget  that  Noah  once  got  drunk." 

As  the  gentlemen  put  down  their  glasses  there  was  a 
light  tap  at  the  door,  and,  on  Tim's  opening  it,  he  found 
Aunt  Mandy  Scurloek  standing  there  with  a  bright 
smile  all  over  her  good  face  as  she  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  merry-making  inside.  "So  you  have  begun  the 
rout.  I'll  be  bound  you  will  get  a  good  time  out  of 
any  occasion  that  draws  a  crowd.  But  ye  are  all 
wanted,  and  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom  most  of  all.  So 
come  along  into  the  best  room,  and  we  will  have  this 
business   settled." 

The  best  room  was  crowded  with  neighbors  and 
friends  of  the  bride  and  groom,  and  Father  Rowe,  tak- 
ing his  stand  in  an  open  space  reserved  for  the  cere- 
mony, awaited  their  coming.  As  Aunt  ISIandy  re- 
marked afterward,  "They  made  a  bonny  couple." 
Cynthy  wore  a  soft  white  homespun  dress  of  her  own 
spinning  and  weaving;  her  eyes  were  bright  with  the 
light  of  true  love  for  the  man  she  had  chosen;  her 
cheeks  were  abloom  with  health,  and  a  sweet  suspicion 
of  a  smile  played  about  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 
Doctor  Tony  stood  as  straight  as  a  hickory  sapling,  his 
face,  rugged  as  it  was,  looked  positively  handsome,  and 
his  earnest,  contented  look  indicated  that  he  thought,  at 
least,  that  he  was  approaching  the  promised  land.  The 
ceremony  as  performed  by  Father  Rowe  was  quaint, 
brief,  but  satisfactory,  tying  them  so  fast  with  the 
tongue  they  could  never  undo  the  knot  with  the  teeth, 
as  he  afterward  told  them.  As  they  took  their  places 
before  him,  Father  Rowe  held  out  a  hand  to  each,  and 


228     ,THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

then  placed  their  right  hands  together,  saying,  "J'ine 
hands.  And  now.  Doctor  Anthony  Sidebottom,  do  you 
take  this  woman,  Cynthy  Shaw,  whom  you  hold  by  the 
hand,  to  be  your  only  true  and  lawful  wife;  do  you 
promise  to  love,  cherish,  protect  and  defend  her;  to 
stick  to  her  in  prosperity  and  hard  times,  to  make  her 
a  full  pardner  in  all  your  joys,  to  comfort  her  in  sor- 
row, untwill  death  do  part  you?    Do  you?" 

"I  do,"  said  Doctor  Tony. 

"And  now,  Cynthy,  do  you  take  this  man  whom  you 
hold  by  the  hand  to  be  your  true  and  lawful  husband; 
do  you  promise  to  love  him,  honor  him,  obey  him,  and 
stick  to  him  in  prosperity  and  adversity,  to  do  all  you 
can  for  his  comfort,  untwill  death  shall  sever  this 
bond?     Do  you?" 

Cynthy  answered  audibly,  "I  do." 

"And  now,  by  the  authority  I  hold  as  a  minister  of 
the  Gospel,  and  accordin'  to  the  laws  of  this  province, 
I  pronounce  ye  man  and  wife.  What  God  hath  joined 
together  let  no  man  put  asunder.  Amen."  The  silence 
was  broken  by  a  hum  of  happy  voices,  and  the  bride 
was  first  kissed  by  the  groom,  then  by  Parson  Rowe, 
and  afterward  she  became  a  prey  to  the  group  of  friends 
gathered  around  her,  and  rejoiced  in  very  many  tender 
evidences  of  being  loved. 

The  evening  that  followed  the  wedding  was  a  long 
and  happy  one;  the  elders  sat  around  the  fire  and  told 
of  many  bright  occasions  in  which  they  had  mingled  in 
days  long  gone  by.  The  younger  folk,  led  by  Doctor 
Tony  and  Cynthy,  danced  a  number  of  Scotch  reels  to 
the  music  of  Tim  Shaw's  fiddle,  and  Aunt  Mandy  and 
Daddy  Scurlock  showed  the  lads  and  lasses  how  to 
Jance  the  hornpipe.  Only  those  guests  who  lived  near 
by   thought  of  going  home.      Beds   were   provided   for 


WEDDING  AT  SHAW'S  CROSS  ROADS      229 

Tyson's  folk,  Daddy  Scurlock  and  Aunt  Mandy,  Roxy 
and  baby,  and  old  Parson  Rowe,  while  the  younger 
members  of  the  party  were  found  dancing  in  the  din- 
ing room  at  daylight  when  Aunt  Mandy  came  to  roust 
them  out,  as  she  said,  to  make  ready  for  breakfast. 

Tim   Shaw  had  not  closed  his   eyes,  but  played  his 
fiddle  for  the  young  folk  all  night  long. 


CHAPTER    XX 

A    SAD    HOME    COMING 

**We  have  met  with  a  sad  loss,  Laurens/'  said  Colonel 
Paisly,  as,  standing  side  by  side,  they  gazed  upon  the 
dead  face  of  Luke  Stallings. 

"What  a  soldier  he  was,  Paisly!" 

"Yea,  and  what  a  man !  He  had  very  limited  chances, 
but  there  was  no  knightlier  gentleman  in  our  army 
than  Luke  Stallings.  Laurens,  I  shall  get  a  furlough 
and,  taking  Lieutenant  Sowell  and  an  escort  from  his 
company,  I  shall  bear  his  remains  home  for  burial;  his 
heroic  clay  is  worthy  of  all  honor.  He  had  no  kindred, 
but  a  sweet  girl's  heart  will  be  wrung  with  anguish 
when  she  hears  the  sad  tidings,  and  her  parents  loved 
Luke  as  if  he  had  been  their  own  son." 

The  sad  details  were  carried  out,  and  at  early  dawn 
on  the  following  morning  Colonel  Paisly,  Lieutenant 
Sowell,  and  three  members  of  the  troop,  escorting  a 
small  covered  army  wagon  in  which  was  the  encoffined 
body  of  Captain  Luke  Stallings,  left  behind  them  the 
campfires  of  Yorktown  and  began  the  sad  homeward 
journey. 

On  the  evening  of  the  fifth  day  after  leaving  camp 
the  sad  little  procession  reached  the  fork  in  the  road 
leading  to  the  home  of  Doctor  David  Caldwell.  "I 
wish  I  knew  what  was  best,"  said  Paisly  to  Sowell. 
"It  will  be  dreadful  to  have  a  sight  of  the  dead  body 
of  our  friend  the  first  intimation  that  Miss  Scurlock 
will  have  had  of  his  death." 

230 


A   SAD  HOME   COMING  2S1 

''She  may  have  heard  rumors,"  suggested  Sowell. 

**I  do  not  wish  to  risk  that,  Joel;  we  had  better  go 
on  to  Uncle  Rafe's,  and  I  will  then  ride  over  to  Doctor 
Caldwell's  and  break  the  news  as  gently  as  I  can." 

"That  would  be  best.  Colonel,"  replied  Joel,  and, 
riding  forward,  they  soon  reached  the  Gordon  home. 
It  was  twilight,  and  Uncle  Rafe  was  at  his  big  barn, 
seeing  to  the  feeding  of  his  stock,  when  Holiday  came 
rushing  to  the  door,  calling  out,  "Mars'  Rafe,  Mars' 
Rafe!  Mars'  John  Paisly  is  at  de  gate;  he  only  got 
four  soldiers  wid  him  and  one  in  a  box;  I  s'pects  de 
others  is  all  killed." 

Rafe  Gordon  hurried  out  to  the  gate  and  gave  Colo- 
nel Paisly  and  his  escort  a  hearty  welcome.  "Wel- 
come, my  nephew;  welcome.  Lieutenant  Sowell;  wel- 
come, boys.  You  return  with  but  few  of  those  who 
breakfasted  with  me  a  short  while  ago." 

"We  are  on  a  sad  errand,  uncle;  within  this  wagon 
is  all  that  is  mortal  of  our  beloved  Stallings,  and  we 
are  the  escort  of  honor." 

"Oh,  no,  John.  Stallings  killed?  Surely  the  enemy 
hath  dealt  us  a  hard  blow."  And  Uncle  Rafe  sobbed 
like  a  child,  exclaiming,  "How  can  we  ever  tell  Patsy 
and   Polly   Rutherford?" 

Meanwhile,  Holiday  had  rushed  into  the  kitchen, 
where  Aunt  Patsy  was  superintending  the  preparation 
of  a  new  kind  of  cake  sister  Ruth  had  been  telling  her 
about,  and  startled  her  with  the  announcement  he  had 
made  to  Mars'   Rafe. 

"Do  you  know  who  it  is  Colonel  Paisly  is  bringing 
home  for  burial.  Holiday?"  she  asked. 

"Not  certain'y,  marm,  but  I  thinks  'tis  Mars*  Stal- 
lings; I  heard  'em  talkin'   about  him." 

As  swiftly  as  her  ponderous   form  could  move,  Aunt 


232  :rHE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

Patsy  passed  from  the  kitchen  to  the  front  hall  door, 
and,  throwing  it  open,  met  her  nephew.  Lieutenant 
Sowell,  and  her  husband,  just  coming  up  the  porch 
steps.  Clasping  John  Paisly  in  her  armsv,  the  old  lady 
exclaimed,  "I  am  so  glad  to  see  that  you  are  safe, 
John;  but  who  is  it  you  are  bringing  home  for  burial?" 
"It  is  dear  Luke  Stallings,  Aunt  Patsy,  and  this  is 
the  saddest  journey  of  my  life.  Oh,  how  shall  I  tell 
Miss  Scurlock  and  dear  Aunt  Mandy  and  Daddy  Scur- 

lock  r 

*'0h,  John,  this  is  a  sad  night,  and  the  poor  fellow 
felt  a  presentiment  that  it  was  coming,  too,  for  he  told 
me  he  did  not  expect  to  survive  the  next  battle.  Poor 
Polly!  you  and  Rafe  must  ride  over  to  Doctor  Cald- 
well's after  supper  and  fetch  Polly  and  the  parson. 
Now,  Rafe,  see  that  poor  Captain  Stallings'  remains 
are  brought  into  the  drawing-room,  and  there  the  guard 
of  honor  shall  watch  over  him  to-night.  Ah,  little  did 
I  think  that  I  should  never  again  welcome  him  in  life 
and  health  to  our  home."  And  Aunt  Patsy  wept  as  a 
mother  might  at  the  loss  of  a  son. 

A  light  was  burning  in  Doctor  Caldwell's  room  used 
by  him  as  office  and  study,  sometimes  schoolroom,  when 
Rafe  Gordon  and  Colonel  Paisly  tied  their  horses  at 
the  rack;  the  rest  of  the  house  was  shrouded  in  dark- 
ness. Walking  up  to  the  entrance,  Rafe  knocked  on 
the  door,  and  they  soon  heard  the  firm,  answering  steps 
of  the  doctor,  and,  candle  in  hand,  he  lighted  them  in. 
"So  glad  to  see  you,  John;  I  have  been  listening  for 
tidings  from  Yorktown.     How  goes  the  siege?" 

"  'Tis  all  over,  doctor;  Cornwallis  has  surrendered, 
and  our  liberties  are  virtually  won.  I  heard  that  since 
I  left  Yorktown." 


A   SAD  HOME   COMING  23 


Q 


"Praise  God  for  this  news,  John;  but  what  brings 
you  home  so  soon?" 

"A  sad  but  loving  errand,  doctor;  I  came  with  an 
escort  bearing  to  his  native  sod  the  remains  of  our 
beloved  friend,  Captain  Luke  Stallings." 

The  doctor  remained  silently  praying  a  moment  with 
his  right  hand  uplifted,  then  said  audibly,  "The  Lord 
gave,  the  Lord  hath  taken  away;  blessed  be  the  name 
of  the  Lord." 

Colonel  Paisly  then  related  the  circumstances  of 
Luke's  death,  and  delivered  his  dying  message  to  the 
doctor — "Tell  Doctor  Caldwell  I  died  in  joyous  hope  of 
a  glorious  immortality." 

Grasping  John  Paisly's  hand  and  with  tears  stream- 
ing from  his  eyes,  the  doctor  exclaimed,  "Oh,  death, 
where  is  thy  sting .^  Oh,  grave,  where  is  thy  victory.'* 
Thanks  be  to  God  which  giveth  us  the  victory  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  We  shall  miss  him,  John,  but 
we  must  not  grieve  for  him;  such  a  death  was  worthy 
of  the  cause  and  the  man.  His  name  will  live  when 
marble  monuments  shall  have  crumbled  into  dust." 

"Has  Miss  Scurlock  retired,  doctor  .f*  She  must  be 
told  of  this." 

"Yes,  poor  lass;  she  has  not  been  gone  from  my 
study  more  than  half  an  hour.  I  will  call  her,  for  I 
am  sure  she  will  wish  to  go  over  to  Rafe's  with  us." 
The  tender  voice  of  Doctor  Caldwell  was  heard  calling 
at  the  door  of  a  room  adjoining  and  communicating 
with  the  one  that  was  occupied  by  the  doctor  and  his 
wife.  "Polly,  lass;  are  you  asleep?  Waken,  my  child, 
and  come  to  the  study.     I  wish  to  speak  with  you." 

"I  will  be  with  you  in  five  minutes,  uncle,"  came  the 
prompt  reply,  and  within  that  time  Polly  made  her  ap- 
pearance   at    the    study    door,    accompanied    by    Aunt 


234  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

Rachel,   and   they   were   much   startled   to    see    Colonel 
Paisly  and  Uncle  Rafe  Gordon  with  the  doctor. 

"Colonel  Paisly,  Uncle  Rafe,  why  have  you  come  at 
this  hour?  What  is  the  matter.  Uncle  Caldwell?" 
asked  Polly. 

"You  are  a  brave  lass,  Polly;  a  strong  lass;  and 
you  need  now  divine  strength  to  bear  sad  tidings." 

"Oh,  what  have  you  to  tell  me,  dear  uncle  ?  Do  speak, 
I  shall  try  to  bear  it." 

"It  has  pleased  God,  my  child,  to  call  our  beloved 
young  friend,  Luke  Stallings,  to  a  higher  service.  Our 
loss  is  his  infinite  gain;  you  must  bear  the  stroke,  dear 
Polly,  asking  for  grace  and  strength." 

"Oh,  where  is  Luke,  my  Luke?  I  must  go  to  him. 
Colonel  Paisly,  what  have  you  done  with  Luke?" 

"Come  to  me,  my  child,"  said  the  doctor  in  great 
tenderness,  and  folding  her  in  his  arms  he  told  her 
of  the  triumphant  death  scene  in  the  marquee  at  York- 
town;  of  all  Luke's  tender  messages,  and  that  all  that 
was  mortal  of  him  was  lying  in  the  drawing-room  at 
Rafe  Gordon's. 

"Come,  uncle,  let  us  go  and  watch  by  him  until 
they  take  him  away,"  she  sobbed;  "my  heart  is  sore 
and  weary.     God  help  me." 

Had  Colonel  Paisly  ever  doubted  that  in  the  depths 
of  her  heart  Polly  Rutherford  did  love  Luke  Stallings, 
one  glimpse  at  the  expression  of  agony  on  her  sad 
face  would  have  convinced  him  that  she  did,  for  as  she 
turned  to  leave  the  room  and  make  ready  for  the  ride 
to  the  Gordons,  she  staggered  and  would  have  fallen 
but  for  the  supporting  arm  of  Aunt  Rachel  tenderly 
thrown  around  her.  Paisly's  own  heart  was  sore;  he 
longed  to  speak  some  word  of  comfort  to  the  stricken 


A   SAD   HOME    COMING  225 

girl,  but  felt  that  silence  now  was  far  better  than  any 
attempt  at  speech. 

Silently  they  rode  along  beneath  the  dim  starlight, 
and  were  not  long  in  reaching  the  Gordons,  when  Doc- 
tor Caldwell  gently  lifted  Polly  from  her  saddle  and, 
placing  his  strong,  loving  arm  about  her,  almost  carried 
her  up  the  steps  and  into  the  porch,  where  she  found 
shelter  and  comfort  in  the  loving  embrace  and  tender 
kiss  of  Aunt  Patsy.  "Come  straight  into  my  room, 
Polly  darling;  dear  child,  my  heart  bleeds  for  you." 
And  Aunt  Patsy  led  Polly  into  her  bright,  cheerful 
chamber,  lit  by  a  blazing  lightwood  fire,  and,  seating 
herself  in  a  big  armchair,  took  the  weeping  girl  into 
her  arms  and  strove  to  comfort  her. 

*'I  am  so  cold.  Aunt  Patsy,  so  chilled,  so  heartsore; 
it  seems  that  all  the  sunshine  has  gone  out  of  my  life. 
Luke  loved  me  so;  was  so  tender,  so  true,  so  patient; 
and  I — oh,  I  was  cruel;  I  was  mean.  I  did  not  appre- 
ciate God's  gift,  and  now  He  has  taken  him  from  me." 

"Poor  child,  you  must  not  reproach  yourself  so;  the 
love  you  gave  Luke  made  him  very  happy;  he  esteemed 
your  favor  more  than  fame  or  treasure.  While  you 
have  lost  him,  remember  the  cause  for  which  he  sac- 
rificed life  and  love.  You  loved  a  hero,  Polly,  and  he 
died  in  the  moment  of  the  greatest  victory  our  beloved 
country  has   achieved." 

"While  all  that  is  true.  Aunt  Patsy,  my  heart  must 
ache,  for  I  cannot  help  calling  up  the  times  I  have  been 
unkind  to  him.  Oh,  that  I  could  blot  out  that  part  of 
our  life,  and  he  is  lost  to  me.  Can  I  once  more  see  his 
face.  Aunt  Patsy  .^" 

"I  will  consult  John  Paisly  and  brother  Caldwell, 
darling;  it  might  be  better  to  remember  Luke  as  you 
parted  from  him,"  Aunt  Patsy  replied  tenderly. 


236  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

Aunt  Patsy  released  Polly  from  her  arms  and  bade 
her  rest  on  a  soft  couch  while  she  went  into  the  draw- 
ing-room to  see  the  colonel  and  Doctor  Caldwell  as  to 
the  advisability  of  letting  the  darling  girl  look  once 
more  at  the  face  of  her  lover.  "\Vhat  do  you  think  of 
our  darling  Polly's  being  allowed  to  see  Luke,  Doctor 
Caldwell,  John?" 

**He  is  wonderfully  natural.  Aunt  Patsy,  and  seems 
providentially  well  preserved,"  said  the  colonel.  "He 
is  a  splendid  example  of  manhood,  even  in  death,  and 
if  the  dear  lass  wishes  to  see  him  she  must,  sister 
Patsy;  I  will  go  with  you  and  fetch  her,"  said  the 
doctor.  As  Doctor  Caldwell,  Aunt  Patsy  and  Polly 
Rutherford  entered  the  drawing-room,  the  colonel 
quietly  withdrew,  for  he  felt  that  it  would  be  sacrilege 
for  him  to  witness  this  meeting  between  the  living  and 
the  dead. 

Standing  over  the  exposed  face  of  Luke  Stallings, 
Doctor  Caldwell  said  with  a  sob  in  his  voice,  "My  dear 
lass,  we  stand  in  the  presence  of  a  hero,  and  you  must 
be  brave  like  he  was,  and  ask  for  grace  to  make  this 
sacrifice.  I  shall  follow  his  sacred  dust  to  Chatham, 
and  there  commit  it  to  the  keeping  of  his  native  sod, 
until  resurrection  dawn.  Let  us  pray."  In  tones  full 
of  pathos  and  tender  love.  Doctor  Caldwell  bore  all  the 
stricken  ones  up  to  a  throne  of  grace,  seeking  comfort, 
asking  for  strength  to  bear,  wisdom  to  follow  duty  even 
though  it  should  lead  them  through  the  gates  of  death. 
As  his  voice  ceased,  Polly  gazed  upon  the  marble-like 
face  of  her  lover,  and  exclaiming,  "Noble,  beautiful; 
so  patient,  so  tender;  even  in  death,"  and  falling  into 
Aunt  Patsy's  arms,  swooned.  Doctor  Caldwell  bore 
the  insensible  girl  to  Aunt  Patsy's  chamber,  and,  ap- 
plying a  restorative,  soon  brought  her  to  consciousness; 


A   SAD   HOME    COMING  237 

then  bidding  her  retire  and  rest,  he  gave  Aunt  Patsy 
an  anodyne  to  administer  and  quietly  withdrew. 

"I  thought  I  should  be  allowed  to  spend  the  re- 
mainder of  the  night  by  Luke,  Aunt  Patsy,"  she  said 
plaintively. 

"You  are  not  strong  enough,  my  darling,  and  if  you 
wish  to  be  up  in  the  morning  when  they  start,  you  must 
rest  now.  Come,  take  this,"  and  Aunt  Patsy  held  the 
sleeping  potion  to  her  lips. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  after  leaving 
Rafe  Gordon's,  Colonel  Paisly  and  his  escort,  accom- 
panied by  Doctor  Caldwell  and  Rafe  Gordon,  reached 
Shaw's  crossroads,  and  there  halted  for  a  little  while 
that  they  might  dispatch  a  messenger  ahead  of  them  to 
Skin  Quarter  to  prepare  Daddy  Scurlock  and  Aunt 
Mandy  for  their  coming. 

"You  had  better  ride  ahead,  Joel,"  said  Colonel 
Paisly,  "and  tell  the  dear  old  people  as  gently  as  you 
can.  I  know,  too,  you  are  anxious  to  see  that  wife  and 
baby." 

"Thank  you.  Colonel;  I  will  be  as  gentle  as  I  can, 
but  it's  a  sad  errand.  Yonder  comes  old  Blaze,  and  I 
will  get  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom  to  go  with  me." 

Cynthy  and  the  doctor  were  spending  some  days  with 
Tim  Shaw,  preparatory  to  Tim's  removal  to  Hard- 
scrabble,  and  the  doctor  was  just  returning  from  a 
round  of  visits.  "Hello,  hello,  hello.  Daggoned  glad 
to  see  you  all!"  he  exclaimed.  "But  what  do  all  this 
mean?"  as  he  gave  all  a  hearty  handshake  and  cor- 
dially recognized  his  introduction  to  Doctor  Caldwell 
and  Rafe  Gordon. 

"  'Tis  sad  news  to  tell,  doctor,"  said  Paisly,  "but  we 
are  bringing  our  dear  friend,  Luke  Stallings,  home  for 
burial  at  Skin  Quarter." 


238  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"My  God !  Luke  Stallings '*    And  Doctor  Tony's 

voice  trembled  with  emotion  as  he  spoke. 

"Yes,  doctor;  there  lies  a  dead  patriot  whose  name 
will  live  on  from  generation  to  generation.  He  died  in 
the  moment  of  victory,  a  willing  sacrifice  for  the  liber- 
ties of  his  people.  He  lived  long  enough  to  know  that 
Cornwallis  would  surrender,  and  he  did  surrender." 

"I  am  going  on  ahead.  Doctor  Tony,  to  tell  Daddy 
Scurlock  and  Aunt  Mandy;  would  you  mind  riding  over 
with  me?"  said  Joel. 

"I  will  go  with  you,  Joel,  but  it  looks  like  I  am  al- 
ways the  bearer  of  bad  news  of  late.  You  know,  I  told 
'em  about  the  capture  of  the  court  and  of  the  governor. 
Yes,  I  will  go,  but  my  heart  is  down  in  my  boots  at  this 
sad  news.  Luke  Stallings  dead!  Why,  he  scasely  had 
his  equal  in  Chatham  County,  and  I  loved  him  like  my 
own  son.  I  know  Cynthy  will  grieve.  Wait  a  minute, 
Joel,  I  must  speak  to  Cynthy;  she's  my  wife  now,  you 
must  know." 

Doctor  Tony  entered  the  house,  and  soon  came  out 
again  accompanied  by  Tim  Shaw  and  Cynthy.  Tim  had 
always  liked  Luke  from  his  childhood,  and  Cynthy  had 
been  his  playfellow  in  their  school  days;  so  two  more 
earnest  mourners  approached  the  little  army  wagon, 
and  gazed  with  tearful  eyes  upon  the  box  that  now 
held  all  that  was  mortal  of  Luke  Stallings. 

"I  am  going  over  to  Skin  Quarter  to  break  the  sad 
news ;  you  can  follow  on  with  your  daddy,  Cynthy," 
said  Doctor  Tony,  and,  mounting  old  Blaze,  he  accom- 
panied Lieutenant  Sowell  to  the  Scurlock  home. 

"Land  sakes,  Roxy,  Roxy !  I  do  believe  yonder  comes 
Joel  with  Doctor  Tony !"  exclaimed  Aunt  Mandy  as  she 
stood  on  her  front  porch  and  gazed  down  the  road, 
one  hand  shading  her  eyes  from  the  western  sun.    Roxy 


A   SAD   HOME    COMING  239 

was  not  long  in  responding  to  Aunt  Mandy's  call,  and 
catching  up  Master  Tony  Scurlock  from  his  quilt  on 
the  floor,  she  rushed  into  the  porch  and  down  the  path 
toward  the  front  gate  and  the  horse-rack,  and  was  soon 
clasped  in  her  husband's  arms.  "Oh,  Joel,  I  am  so  glad 
to  welcome  you  home,  and  baby  is  glad,  too,  although 
he  is  a  bit  scared,"  said  Roxy,  laughing  and  crying 
by  turns.  "But  you  don't  look  glad,  Joel;  what  is  the 
matter?" 

"I  am  glad  indeed  to  see  you  and  our  precious  babe, 
but  my  errand  home  makes  me  sad,  Roxy.  Do  tell  her 
and  Aunt  Mandy,  Doctor  Tony,  for  I  just  can't  do  it." 

"It's  daggoned  hard  on  me.  Aunt  Mandy,  to  be  the 
bearer  of  bad  news  every  time,  but  you  must  all  know 
it.  Poor  Luke  Stallings  was  killed  in  the  storming  of 
a  redoubt  at  the  siege  of  Yorktown,  and  Colonel  Paisly 
and  a  military  escort,  with  Rafe  Gordon  and  Doctor 
Caldwell,  are  at  the  crossroads  with  his  body,  bringing 
it  here  for  burial.  Joel  came  over  with  me  in  advance 
to  tell  ye.     Where  is  Amen,  Aunt  Mandy?" 

Aunt  Mandy  did  not  answer  the  question,  but,  bury- 
ing her  face  in  her  homespun  apron,  sobbed  as  if  her 
heart  were  breaking,  crying  out,  "My  poor  boy;  no 
more  shall  I  see  your  bonny  smile  and  hear  your  cheery 
voice."     Then,  turning  away,  walked  toward  the  house. 

"She's  hard  hit,  is  Aunt  Mandy.  Whar  is  Amen, 
Roxy?"   said  Doctor  Tony. 

"Daddy  Scurlock  rode  over  to  Corneal  Tyson's  early 
this  morning;  he  should  be  back  by  now,  doctor;  let  us 
all  go  into  the  house,  I  must  see  after  Aunt  Mandy." 

Daddy  Scurlock  reached  home  before  the  arrival  of 
the  cortege  from  the  crossroads,  and  received  the  sad 
tidings  as  David  did  the  death  of  a  much  more  un- 
worthy son  than  Luke  had  been;  the  loss  of  Luke  was 


240  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

a  sore  grief  to  the  old  man.  When  Colonel  Paisly  de- 
livered to  him  and  to  Aunt  Mandy,  alone^  Luke's  dying 
message^  both  of  them  wept  piteously,  Daddy  Scurlock 
exclaiming  between  sobs,  "Yea,  my  son,  thou  shalt  rest 
next  to  the  spot  that  shall  give  me  sepulchre,  nor  shall 
weeds  invade  thy  grave  while  I  live." 

The  news  of  the  arrival  of  the  body  of  Captain  Luke 
Stallings  spread  over  the  Brush  Creek  settlement,  and 
friends  and  neighbors  gathered  from  afar  to  be  pres- 
ent at  the  funeral.  The  house,  the  yard,  the  road  in 
front  of  Skin  Quarter  was  crowded  with  people,  and 
many  who  had  known  Luke  in  childhood  sat  through  the 
night  as  watchers  around  the  bier.  It  was  a  lovely 
winter  morning  when,  borne  by  Colonel  Paisly,  Joel  and 
the  members  of  his  troop.  Doctor  Tony  Sidebottom  and 
Tim  Shaw,  Luke  was  laid  to  rest  beneath  the  cedars  in 
Skin  Quarter  graveyard.  Tender  were  the  words  of 
old  Father  Rowe,  and  eloquent  was  the  tribute  to  his 
life  and  heroism  spoken  by  Doctor  David  Caldwell, 
closing  with  those  words  that  always  smite  the  heart, 
"Earth  to  earth,  ashes  to  ashes,  until  resurrection 
dawn." 

A  few  months  after  the  close  of  the  war  Colonel 
Paisly  had  erected  over  the  grave  of  his  beloved  friend 
a  memorial  stone  bearing  this  inscription: 

A  Memorial  to 

CAPTAIN  LUKE  STALLINGS 

Aged  26 

Who  died  from  wounds  received  in  battle  at  YorJetown, 

Virginia,   November   the   13th,   1781 

"I   died   in  joyous  hope   of   a   glorious   Immortality." 
"Weed  well  his  grave,  ye  men  of  goodness,  for  he  was  your 

feUow." 


CHAPTER    XXI 

SACRIFICE    THE    PRICE    OF    LIBERTY 

With  a  sad  heart  Colonel  John  Paisly  left  behind 
him  the  mound  of  earth  that  covered  Luke  Stallings 
and  took  leave  of  the  sorrowing  hearts  in  and  around 
Skin  Quarter.  Accompanied  by  Doctor  David  Cald- 
well and  Rafe  Gordon,  he  and  his  escort  returned  to 
Guilford  on  the  morning  after  the  funeral,  and,  re- 
maining with  his  mother  only  a  day  and  night,  he  had 
returned  to  Yorktown  without  again  seeing  Polly  Ruth- 
erford. He  knew  of  the  surrender  of  Cornwallis,  but 
he  knew  not  whither  the  Continental  troops  there  as- 
sembled would  be  ordered,  and  he  was  anxious  to  re- 
join his  old  command  and  share  their  fortunes,  what- 
ever they  might  be.  It  was  no  hard  matter  to  locate 
the  troop  now,  under  the  command  of  Charley  Sheering, 
who  had  been  promoted  to  the  captaincy,  and  Joel 
Sowell  found  the  first  lieutenancy  awaiting  him  when 
he.  Colonel  Paisly  and  the  escort  reached  camp.  There 
was  the  marquee  in  which  Luke  Stallings  had  died, 
on  the  same  spot  it  had  first  been  pitched,  and  Charley 
Sheering  had  a  bright  campfire  burning  and  everything 
looking  warm  and  cheery  as  the  colonel  and  Joel  rode 
up  about  twilight.  It  was  a  bleak  and  cold  November 
evening;  the  wind,  sharp  and  cutting,  came  from  the 
broad  surface  of  the  river  and  bore  on  its  chilly  breath 
feathery  flakes  of  snow;  and  our  weary  travelers  wel- 

241 


242  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

corned  the  bright,,  blazing  campfires,  and  were  glad 
indeed  to  seek  the  shelter  of  the  marquee. 

"I  have  been  looking  for  you  and  Joel^  Colonel!" 
exclaimed  Charley^  as^  leaving  the  log  fire,  he  came 
forward  to  greet  them.  "You  have  had  a  cold  ride  to- 
day,  and  need  something  hot;  come  right  in  out  of  the 
wind."  Charley  Sheering  was  an  ingenious  fellow,  and 
believed  in  being  as  comfortable  as  possible  under  all 
conditions.  So  in  his  leisure  moments  he  had  con- 
structed a  stick  and  mud  fireplace  and  chimney  to  the 
marquee,  and  when  the  colonel  and  Joel  entered  they 
found  a  bright  blazing  fire  which  shed  a  ruddy  glow 
over  the  interior,  while  comfortable  camp  stools  awaited 
them.  At  a  safe  distance  from  the  fireplace  he  had 
constructed  three  bunks,  well  covered  with  wheat  straw 
and  overspread  with  blankets,  and  by  the  side  of  each 
bunk  was  spread  a  pine  tag  mat,  curiously  wrought, 
the  tags  being  laced  together  by  elm  bark  strings. 

"Hello,  Charley  Sheering;  you  are  getting  luxuri- 
ous !"  exclaimed  the  colonel.  "I  had  not  expected  to 
return  to  such  luxury  in  coming  back  to  Yorktown." 

"There  is  nothing  but  the  chimney.  Colonel,  that  I 
cannot  move,  and  our  old  school  teacher's  motto  used 
to  be,  'Dum  vivimus  vivamus.'  We  live  as  many  hours 
at  Yorktown  as  we  do  elsewhere,  so,  live  while  we 
live. 

"You  are  a  philosopher,  Charley;  many  people  suf- 
fer with  privations  they  have  the  ability  to  avert,  and 
any  soldier  of  ordinary  common  sense  can  be  quite 
comfortable  in  camp  if  he  will  only  try  to  be." 

"I  am  quite  ambitious,  Colonel,  along  that  line,  and, 
if  we  stay  here  long  enough,  shall  weave  a  carpet  to 
spread  over  this  sand  and  to  keep  our  bare  feet  rea- 
sonably clean  as   we   move  about  the  tent." 


SACRIFICE    THE    PRICE    OF    LIBERTY    243 

"That  reminds  me^  Charley;  what  do  you  hear? 
How  long  does  Colonel  Laurens  think  we  shall  remain 
in  Virginia?" 

"I  saw  Colonel  Laurens  to-day,  and  asked  him  that 
very  question.  He  says  General  Washington  thinks 
General  Greene  should  now  be  reinforced,  so  that  he 
can  drive  the  British  out  of  the  south  entirely.  Laurens 
himself  is  going  to  Greene,  and  we  can  go,  too." 

"The  very  thing,  Charley,  for  we  are  no  longer  needed 
in  Virginia,  and  I  shall  not  rest  content  until  the  last 
invader  has  been  driven  from  our  soil  and  out  to  sea. 
I  am  very  tired,  but  must  see  Laurens  to-night  and 
talk  it  all  over  with  him." 

The  "chef  de  cuisine,"  as  Sergeant  Kinsey  continued 
to  style  himself,  now  made  his  appearance  with  several 
rude  earthenware  dishes  and  wooden  platters,  soon 
spreading  supper  upon  a  rudely  constructed  table,  and 
then  he  proceeded  to  greet  Colonel  Paisly  and  Joel. 

"Howdy,  Colonel;  howdy,  lieutenant.  I'm  as  proud 
to  see  you  both  as  if  I  had  found  a  new  pa'r  of  shoes, 
which  I  hain't,  and  needs  'em  bad,  too." 

"Has  our  quartermaster  no  shoes  on  hand,  ser- 
geant?" asked  the  colonel. 

"Nary  a  pa'r  that  will  fit  a  number  twelve  foot. 
Colonel.  My  feet  ar'  big  enough  to  walk  on  water; 
the  quartermaster  don't  call  me  nothin'  but  *web-foot.* 
But  here's  supper,  Colonel;  you  all  take  it  while  it's 
hot.      I  know  you  needs  it  wuss  than  I  do  the  shoes." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  Kinsey;  in  the  morning  I 
will  see  our  quartermaster  and  get  him  to  exchange 
with  some  other  quartermaster  and  secure  you  a  good 
pair  of  shoes,  for  every  man  in  this  command  must  be 
well  protected  from  this  weather  if  I  can  secure  that 
protection," 


244,  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"Thankee,  Colonel;  yell  find  in  them  gourds  on  the 
table  a  dram  apiece  of  the  pure  stuff,  old  Jamaica 
rum,  with  a  leetle  treacle  stirred  in,  and  ye  can  all 
drink  to  the  health  o'  Gineral  Washington  and  Gineral 
La  Fayette,"  and  Kinsey  disappeared  from  the  tent, 
betaking  himself  to  a  rudely  constructed  log  hut  near 
by  called  the  kitchen. 

"Kinsey  is  a  remarkable  chap,  Charley;  rough  as  to 
manners  as  a  bear,  but  brave  and  true,"  said  Colonel 
Paisly  as  they  drew  their  camp  stools  up  to  the  table. 

"No  better  man  in  the  troop  than  Kinsey,  Colonel; 
he  don't  know  what  fear  is.  Never  was  scared  in  his 
life,  and  when  he  gets  into  a  fight  he  just  whoops  like 
an  Indian  and  whacks  all  around  him,  his  sword 
whizzing  like  a  spinning  wheel  and  flashing  like  light- 
ning. When  he  plants  those  big  feet  of  his  and  sets 
that  sword  a-going,  you  couldn't  get  a  Britisher  or  a 
Tory  to  come  anigh  him.  A  skirmish  line  of  such  men 
as  Kinsey  would  cut  their  way  through  a  solid  division 
of  King  George's  best.'* 

"I  shall  try  always  to  keep  Kinsey  in  sight,  and 
when  the  war  ends  shall  aim  to  give  him  a  start  in  the 
world.     What  trade  suits  him  best,  Charley?" 

"Oh,  he  is  carpenter,  blacksmith,  wheelwright,  and 
loom-maker,  all  in  one.  You  can't  go  amiss  in  starting 
him  at  any  handcraft." 

"All  right,  Charley,  he  is  an  easy  man  to  set  up  in 
business.  I  shall  want  him  about  my  own  place  in 
Guilford.  Now  I  will  just  go  over  and  have  a  talk 
with  Colonel  Laurens.  Is  he  camping  at  the  same 
place?" 

"Yes,  the  same  place.  Colonel;  would  you  like  me  to 
go  with  you  as  far  as  the  Laurens  marquee  just  for 
company?" 


SACRIFICE    THE    PRICE    OF    LIBERTY    245 

"Come  along,  Charley,  and  make  the  call  with  me. 
The  business  concerns  your  command,  and  I  know 
Laurens  will  be  glad  to  see  you."  So  together  Colonel 
Paisly  and  Captain  Sheering  picked  their  way  through 
the  lines  of  campfires  and  tents  and  were  soon  wel- 
comed by  Colonel  Laurens. 

"I  am  glad  to  welcome  you  back,  Paisly,"  was  Colo- 
nel Laurens'  hearty  salutation  as  he  grasped  Paisly's 
hand.  "I  have  missed  you  sorely,  but  was  glad  you 
could  be  spared  to  bear  our  honored  Stallings  to  his 
last  resting  place.  Come  in.  Sheering;  you  are  called 
to -fill  the  place  of  as  noble  a  leader  as  the  Continental 
army  has  lost.  I  have  faith  in  you,  and  believe  you 
will  honor  the  place  and  help  us  to  keep  green  the 
memory  of  Stallings." 

"Thank  you.  Colonel  Laurens.  No  one  will  miss 
Luke  Stallings  more  than  I  will;  he  was  my  dearest 
friend.  He  helped  me  and  my  dear  wife  when  that 
wretch  Fanning  had  left  me  for  dead;  he  was  ever 
true  to  his  people,  and  leaves  a  place  no  other  man  can 
fill.  I  shall  only  do  the  best  I  can  to  follow  Luke's 
lead." 

"No  man  knoweth  the  hour  of  his  summons;  let  us 
all  do  our  best  to  follow  Luke's  lead,  and  leave  the 
issue  with  Him  who  is  the  God  of  grace  as  well  as  the 
God  of  battles,"  said  Colonel  Paisly.  Then,  directing 
his  question  to  Colonel  Laurens,  he  asked,  "What  is  the 
plan  for  reinforcing  General  Greene,  Laurens?  We 
should  like  to  be  ordered  to  Carolina." 

"The  idea  seems  to  be  to  send  General  Greene  enough 
men  from  this  army  to  enable  him  to  wipe  out  our 
enemy  and  to  repossess  Charleston.  Your  squadron  I 
have  asked  for,  and  more  picked  men,'*  said  Laurens. 

"That  was  just  what  I  came  over  to  see  you  about. 


246  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

Laurens,  and  marching  orders  cannot  come  too  soon 
for  me.  The  war  is  fast  approaching  the  end,  and,  as 
the  fox  hunters  say,  'I  want  to  be  in  at  the  death.'  " 

"We  shall  have  marching  orders  next  week,  Paisly;  a 
Pennsylvania  brigade  goes  to  General  Greene,  and  other 
detachments  with  them,  including  your  squadron.  The 
French  army  will  remain  for  the  present  in  Virginia 
under  Count  Rochambeau,  while  the  remainder  of  our 
army  will  march  northward  to  the  Hudson,  for  the 
dying  efforts  of  King  George  will  be  made  in  and 
around  New  York." 

"The  surrender  at  Yorktown  is  the  beginning  of  the 
end,  Laurens.  We  shall  have  some  more  partizan  war- 
fare in  North  and  South  Carolina,  but  King  George  is 
whipped.  The  British  lion  must  take  his  paws  off  of 
American  sod,  from  the  Great  Lakes  southward,  from 
the  Atlantic  westward,  and  I  see  the  dawn  coming  of 
a  glorious  day  for  these  colonies.'* 

"So  mote  it  be,  Paisly;  I  am  young  yet,  but,  if  the 
surrender  of  my  poor  life  would  hasten  the  dawn  of 
our  independence,  I  should  willingly  follow  Luke  Stal- 
lings's  example.     Sacrifice  is   the  price  of  liberty." 

"There  are  more  of  us  that  would  do  likewise,  my 
dear  Laurens,  but  let  us  hope  that  we  shall  all  survive 
the  final  struggle  and  be  left  to  aid  in  the  upbuilding 
of  a  great  country.  But  the  evening  is  now  far  spent, 
we  had  better  be  going  now,  Charley." 

"Don't  go.  I  can  bunk  both  of  you  for  the  night," 
insisted  Colonel  Laurens. 

"Many  thanks,  John  Laurens,  but  Charley  has  made 
too  many  luxurious  preparations  for  my  return  for  me 
to  spend  even  one  night  away  from  so  sumptuous  a, 
marquee.  You  must  come  over  and  see  our  abode,  and 
take  a   meal   prepared   by   Mike   Kinsey,   our   'chef   de 


SACRIFICE    THE    PRICE    OF    LIBERTY    247 

cuisine.*     Suppose  you  come  to-morrow  and  spend  the 
day?" 

"I  know  of  nothing  to  prevent,  Paisly,  so  look  for 

me. 

Marching  orders  came  the  following  week.  On  the 
march  southward  Paisly  and  Laurens  saw  much  of 
each  other  and  their  friendship  grew  warm  and  tender, 
not  unlike  the  beautiful  example  given  in  Jewish  his- 
tory of  the  love  that  was  so  nobly  exhibited  by  David 
and  Jonathan. 

Ambition  and  jealousy  found  no  sordid  place  in  the 
hearts  of  these  young  patriots;  each  gave  his  best  ser- 
vice to  the  cause  both  so  faithfully  loved  and  served, 
and  the  successes  of  one  only  called  forth  loving  ad- 
miration from  the  other.  Laurens  was  given  a  position 
of  leadership  from  his  familiarity  with  the  territory 
over  which  they  were  fighting  in  South  Carolina,  and 
he  always  sought  to  have  with  him  Paisly  and  his 
squadron  in  any  desperate  venture  he  was  about  to 
make. 

The  character  of  the  warfare  waged  was  sudden 
dashes  upon  exposed  outposts  of  the  British,  and  the 
squadron  commanded  by  Paisly  carried  terror  into  the 
ranks  of  their  enemies,  for  they  were  soon  found  to  be 
hard  fighters,  expert  with  the  sword,  and  so  swift  in 
their  movements  as  not  only  to  avoid  much  of  the  hazard 
in  attack,  but  inspired  panic  by  their  impetuosity. 

It  was  in  one  of  these  expeditions  that  Paisly  and 
Colonel  Laurens  led  in  an  impetuous  charge,  finding 
the  enemy  more  stubborn  in  resistance  than  usual.  As 
the  squadron  advanced,  Paisly  on  his  black  charger  and 
Laurens,  also  well  mounted,  led  the  flying  column  as 
they  bore  down  upon  the  sullen,  waiting  foe. 

"Paisly,"  said  Laurens,  as   side  by  side  they  dashed 


248      THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

forward,  "there  is  no  death  to  a  Christian  patriot;  we 
only  pass  from  the  battle  fields  of  earth  to  the  glories 
of  eternity;  what  is  a  human  life  to  the  liberties  of  my 
people  ?" 

"You  are  brave  and  true,  my  dear  Laurens,  but  do 
not  be  reckless;  do  not  throw  your  life  away." 

There  was  a  sudden  rushing  together,  a  clash  of  steel, 
a  roar  of  firearms,  a  neighing  of  wounded  steeds,  the 
mingled  shouts  of  battle,  and  for  a  time  all  was  smoke, 
din  and  confusion.  Above  the  roar  three  voices  were 
heard  and  the  battle  cry  was,  "Strike !  strike !  strike ! 
for  your  wives,  your  children,  your  homes !"  Then  only 
two  voices  lifted  the  cry,  but  above  them  was  heard 
the  roar  of  Mike  Kinsey,  like  the  voice  of  an  enraged 
lion,  and  a  rift  in  the  smoke  revealed  him  standing  over 
the  prostrate  form  of  Colonel  Laurens,  his  sword 
whizzing  and  flashing,  while  around  him  lay  in  a  circle 
dead  and  dying  men,  while  none  of  the  enemy  now 
dared  approach  him.  Paisly  had  pressed  onward  with 
the  main  body  of  his  men,  Charley  Sheering  leading 
the  way,  and  soon  the  enemy  were  seen  flying,  eager  to 
escape  the  devouring  sword,  their  fears  being  swifter 
than   the  pursuing  horsemen. 

"We  have  punished  them  sufficiently,  Charley,*'  said 
Colonel  Paisly.  "Where  is  Mike  Kinsey?  Let  him 
sound  the  rally.'* 

"I  fear  some  mishap  has  befallen  Kinsey,  Colonel." 

"Have  you  seen  anything  of  Colonel  Laurens  since 
we  joined  battle,  Charley?" 

"Not  since  the  first  crash.  Colonel,  and  I  venture  we 
will  find  Mike  looking  after  Colonel  Laurens." 

Slowly  and  carefully  did  they  retrace  their  steps  to 
the  spot  where  the  battle  had  first  begun,  and  there, 
beneath  a  stunted  pine  near  a  branch  of  cool,  running 


SACRIFICE    THE    PRICE    OF    LIBERTY    249 

water^  they  found  Colonel  Laurens  sorely  wounded,  with 
his  head  resting  upon  the  breast  of  Mike  Kinsey,  while 
all  around  lay  the  victims  Mike  had  cut  down  in  de- 
fence of  the  colonel.  Paisly  dispatched  Charley  Sheer- 
ing in  search  of  Surgeon  Carmichael,  and_,  taking  a  seat 
by  the  side  of  his  beloved  friend,  he  took  his  hand  in 
his,  saying,  "How  do  you  feel,  my  dear  Laurens?  I 
trust  your  wound  is  not  serious.'* 

"  'Tis  mortal,  friend  Paisly;  an  artery  is  severed,  and 
I  shall  soon  sleep  among  those  who,  like  Luke  Stal- 
lings,  in  the  prime  of  their  young  manhood  died  for 
their  country." 

"Here  comes  Carmichael,  John;  let  us  hope  he  will 
find  a  way  to  save  you.  Oh,  we  cannot  give  you  up, 
my  more  than  friend,"  and  manly  tears  came  into 
Paisly's  eyes. 

The  serious  face  of  Doctor  Carmichael  as  he  ex- 
amined the  wounded  man  spoke  but  too  plainly,  and 
no  one  saw  it  more  quickly  than  Colonel  Laurens.  With 
a  sweet  smile  on  his  placid  face,  he  said,  "I  see  you 
think  I  am  not  long  for  earth,  Doctor;  I  realize  it. 
That  ball  severed  the  femoral  artery.  Life  is  fast  ebb- 
ing, and  I  shall  soon  join  the  great  majority.  I  have 
no  fears;  life  would  have  been  sweet,  eternal  life  will 
be  far  sweeter." 

"You  have  anticipated  me.  Colonel  Laurens ;  your 
hours  on  earth  are  numbered,  but  I  see  you  have  no 
fears  for  the  future,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  fact 
does  not  hasten  your  going,"  was  Carmichael's  calm 
reply.  "But  let  us  remove  you  from  this  gruesome 
place,"  continued  the  doctor.  "I  have  ordered  a 
stretcher,  and  here  it  comes.  We  will  take  the  colonel 
to  yon  house  in  the  distance,  Kinsey." 

With  tender  hands   and  tearful   eyes   they  bore  the 


250  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

dying  colonel  to  a  more  comfortable  place  than  a  battle 
field,  and  surounded  by  those  comrades  who  loved  and 
tenderly  ministered  to  him,  he  passed  from  scenes  of 
suffering  and  strife  into  the  land  where  death  shall 
never  come.  His  last  words  were  "Sacrifice  is  the 
price  of  liberty.' 


»» 


CHAPTER    XXII 

FANNING    LOSES    THE    BAY    DOE 

We  now  pass  over  the  winter  and  resume  our  story 
in  the  summer  days  of  1782.  While  the  King's  cause 
had  steadily  failed,  his  forces  having  been  driven  out 
of  the  Carolinas  and  his  army  at  Yorktown  having  sur- 
rendered, David  Fanning  had  lost  none  of  his  venom, 
and  continued  to  wage  a  relentless  war  upon  the  best 
citizens  of  the  province,  selecting  those  who  were  rep- 
resentative men.  The  counties  of  Chatham,  Randolph, 
and  the  edge  of  Guilford  furnished  the  chosen  victims, 
and,  regardless  of  law,  either  military  or  civil,  his 
marauders  carried  fire  and  sword  into  the  homes  of 
many  supporters  of  the  Continental  cause;  and  good 
men  were  either  shot  or  hanged  with  as  little  show 
of  feeling  as  if  they  had  been  dogs,  while  women  and 
children,  escaping  for  their  lives  from  their  burning 
homes,  often  sought  refuge  in  the  forests  and  swamps 
or  in  the  cabins  of  their  faithful  slaves. 

On  one  of  his  plundering  expeditions  Fanning  and 
a  few  faithful  followers  met  on  one  of  the  highways 
leading  southward  toward  the  Pee  Dee  settlement  in 
South  Carolina,  a  cart  with  a  covering  of  homespun 
cloth,  and  driven  by  a  man  who  was  little  disposed  to 
talk,  and  who,  evidently,  was  not  pleased  at  meeting  the 
Tory  leader. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  was  Fanning's  gruff  ques- 
tion as  he  halted  man  and  cart. 

251 


252  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"Down  on  Pee  Dee  to  buy  some  salt  and  groceries ; 
my  family  are  suffering  for  'em  right  now." 

"Have  ye  got  anything  to  eat  in  this  cart?"  and 
Fanning,  having  dismounted,  proceeded  to  lift  the  cover 
and  to  stir  up  a  pile  of  sacks. 

"Only  a  few  rations  to  last  the  journey,  Colonel;  for 
God's  sake  don't  take  'em." 

"Hello,  you  have  got  some  live  rations  in  here,"  and 
Fanning  lifted  some  sacks  and  discovered  beneath  them 
a  man.  Fanning's  face  now  lighted  with  a  devilish 
smile  as  he  exclaimed,  "Come  out,  you  rascal;  I  have 
caught  you  at  last.  Ah,  Hunter,  did  you  ever  expect 
to  escape  me.^" 

Andrew  Hunter  was  a  true  patriot,  and  the  enmity 
he  bore  Fanning  and  the  king's  cause  was  of  long 
standing,  and  he  was  on  the  black  list  that  Fanning  had 
sworn  to  put  to  the  sword  or  gibbet.  "Yea,  they  have 
been  trying  and  hanging  my  men  at  Pittsboro  as  trait- 
ors. Hunter.  The  battle  of  Cane  Creek  cost  me  Jack 
Rains  and  a  bad  wound  in  my  arm,  and  now  vengeance 
is  mine,  so  you  may  get  ready  in  fifteen  minutes  to  die. 
You  rebels  need  not  think  ye  are  going  to  win  out,  even 
if  Cornwallis  and  Rawdon  are  defeated.  There  are 
enough  of  the  King's  men  in  this  province  to  crush  out 
rebellion,  and  sich  as  you  will  dance  on  air  whenever 
I  catch  ye." 

"Colonel  Fanning,  I  am  in  your  power,  and  am  help- 
less to  defend  myself.  I  have  fought  you  in  the  field, 
always  a  fair  fight,  and  have  never  yet  hung  one  of 
your  men.  Of  course,  if  I  am  to  die,  I  would  prefer  to 
die  like  a  soldier." 

"I  think  I  would  prefer  to  see  you  dance  on  air;  so, 
boys,  make  ready  to  send  Hunter  to  kingdom  come  by 
way  of  hemp." 


FANNING    LOSES    THE    BAY   DOE       253 

There  was  considerable  stir  among  Fanning's  men, 
for  several  of  them  knew  Hunter,  and,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  his  being  a  Whig,  had  always  liked  him.  His 
friend  with  whom  he  was  journeying  to  the  Pee  Dee, 
Latham  by  name,  put  in  an  earnest  plea  for  him,  re- 
gardless of  personal  danger  to  himself. 

Walking  up  to  Fanning,  he  said,  "Colonel,  you  are 
goin'  to  commit  nothing  short  of  murder.  Hunter  is  a 
brave  enemy,  and  deserves  better  of  you  than  to  be 
hung  like  a  dog.  If  ye  will  kill  him,  shoot  him,  but 
don't,  for  God's  sake,  strangle  him." 

"Ye  had  better  keep  quiet,"  replied  Fanning;  "you 
are  in  bad  company,  and  'twouldn't  take  much  of  your 
tongue  to  send  you  after  Hunter." 

"Can't  help  it.  Colonel;  Hunter  is  my  friend  and 
neighbor;  he  has  a  helpless  family." 

"The  families  of  all  sich  had  better  die  out;  they 
are  a  nest  of  rebels,"  said  Fanning,  as  he  turned  to 
speak  to  the  man  whom  he  had  appointed  chief  hang- 
man. 

"Find  your  limb;  there  is  no  need  to  delay;  hasten 
this  business  and  let  us  be  going." 

The  members  of  the  troop  had  all  dismounted,  and 
Fanning's  famous  mare,  the  bay  Doe,  was  picketed  not 
far  from  the  spot  where  Hunter  and  the  executioner 
stood.  Hunter  gazed  with  longing  eyes  at  the  trim, 
deerlike  mare  as  she  stood  beneath  the  shade  only  a 
few  yards  away,  and  inwardly  determined  that  no 
hemp  should  strangle  the  life  out  of  him  when  he  had 
a  chance  for  his  life,  or  at  least  a  chance  to  die  like 
a  soldier.  He  delayed  the  hanging  by  prolonging  his 
talk  with  the  man  appointed  to  do  the  job,  and  as  they 
talked,  Hunter  steadily  and  almost  imperceptibly  moved 
backward  in  the  direction  of  the  bay  Doe. 


554  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

"It's  no  use/'  replied  the  man;  "I  would  be  glad  to 
see  you  released,  Hunter,  but  the  colonel  is  mad  at  the 
loss  of  some  of  his  men,  and  I  can  see  you  are  doomed; 
I  am  sorry." 

"But  tell  him  that  every  Whig  he  hangs  means  a 
dreadful  retribution  to  him  when  we  force  him  to  sur- 
render. He  will  be  outlawed  in  every  province."  Mean- 
while, Hunter  had  crept  several  yards  nearer  to  the 
bay  Doe. 

"No  use,  Hunter,  to  tell  the  colonel  anything;  he's 
bent  on  hangin'  yer,  and  it's  much  as  my  life's  worth 
not  to  tie  the  rope,  and  I've  got  it  here  all  fixed  and 
the  colonel  is  awaitin',  so  don't  put  it  off  any  longer." 

With  a  sudden  spring  and  a  rush.  Hunter  reached 
the  bay  Doe,  and,  catching  her  bridle  off  of  the  swing- 
ing limb  over  which  it  had  been  carelessly  thrown,  he 
bounded  on  her  back.  Reluctant  to  leave  the  other 
horses,  the  mare  for  a  moment  refused  to  move,  but  the 
crack  of  several  rifles  as  their  balls  cut  the  twigs  about 
her  caused  her  to  spring  like  a  startled  hare,  and  soon 
she  was  flying  with  almost  incredible  speed  down  the 
road  in  a  southern  direction,  leaving  Fanning  to  find  a 
mount  until  he  could  once  more  reach  the  Red  buck,  for 
he  realized  that  pursuit  was  vain,  as  no  other  horse  in 
the  troop  could  possibly  overtake  the  bay  Doe;  nothing 
but  a  bullet  could.  "Shoot  him,  shoot  him,"  exclaimed 
Fanning.  "Kill  the  rascal,  but  don't  kill  my  horse. 
She's  worth  a  dozen  sich  as  he.'* 

On  sped  the  bay  Doe,  bullet  after  bullet  following 
Hunter,  but  one  reaching  the  mark,  as  all  feared  injury 
to  the  mare.  A  stream  of  blood  flowing  down  the 
saddle  and  foreshoulder  of  the  mare,  and  a  stinging  sen- 
sation in  his  own  thigh,  told  Hunter  that  he  had  been 
struck.     Regardless  of  his  wound,  on  he  rode,  putting 


iUKftH^-l" 


—  <^- 


Fanning  Loses  the  Bay   Doe 


FANNING    LOSES    THE    BAY   DOE       255 

many  miles  between  him  and  his  bloodthirsty  enemies 
before  he  dared  to  halt  or  seek  aid.  At  last^  turning 
the  head  of  the  bay  Doe  into  a  dark  bridle  path  through 
a  dense  forest  of  long  leaf  pine_,  he  rode  briskly  for- 
ward until  the  path  broadened  out  and  he  came  to  a 
clearing  on  the  edge  of  which  stood  a  double  log  cabin 
with  a  picket  fence  of  rived  boards  around  it. 

Sitting  on  the  top  rider  of  the  rail  fence  that  sur- 
rounded a  field  adjoining  the  house  inclosure  was  a  red- 
faced^  red-haired  man^  with  plenty  of  freckles  and  a 
big  mouthy  clad  in  buckskin  breeches,  bare-footed, 
without  coat  or  waistcoat,  his  only  upjDcr  garment  a 
deerskin  hunting  shirt,  and  holding  across  his  knees  a 
long  barrel  rifle,  he  was  a  picture  of  the  primitive 
settler.  In  a  moment  he  had  jumped  from  the  top  rail, 
and  when  Hunter  flung  the  bridle  of  the  bay  Doe  over 
a  picket  and  slowly  dismounted,  the  owner  of  the  settle- 
ment held  out  his  hand,  saying,  "Glad  to  see  ye.  Hunter ; 
ye  mon  ha'  rode  far  the  day;  the  mare  ese  all  in  a 
reek." 

"I  have  been  riding  for  my  life,  Sandy  MacPherson, 
and  have  a  bullet  in  my  right  thigh,  so  you  may  try 
your  skill  at  probing  when  I  get  a  little  rested." 

"Who  has  been  chasin'  ye.  Hunter.^'* 

"The  Fanning  gang,  Sandy;  I  was  on  my  way  to 
Pee  Dee  to  buy  supplies  for  my  family,  when  who 
should  overtake  us  but  Fanning  and  his  murderous  gang. 
They  fixed  a  rope  and  got  all  ready  to  hang  me,  but 
Fanning's  mare  was  too  convenient  for  me  to  amuse 
them  by  strangulation.  I  jumped  upon  her  back,  and, 
running  the  gauntlet  of  the  whole  gang,  only  received 
one  shot.  This,  Sandy,  is  the  bay  Doe,  and  Fanning 
will  never  see  her  again,  I  assure  you." 

Sandy  MacPherson  clapped  his  hands  in  great  glee. 


256  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

and  opening  his  big  mouth  exclaimed,  "Well  done. 
Hunter.  Fannin'  found  his  match,  the  rascal,  ar' 
precious  rascal.  Ter  Devil  must  ha'  Fannin',  but 
Sandy  MacPherson  would  be  liking  the  job  to  send 
him  to  hell.  Did  ee  see  ma  brother  Duncan  wi'  Fan- 
nin', Hunter.''" 

"Yes,  Duncan  wa§  with  him,  Sandy,  but  I  believe  he 
was  my  friend  and  would  have  tried  to  save  me  had  he 
thought  it  worth  while  to  try." 

"Na,  na,  Duncan's  no  goot.  Hunter;  oot  on  ony  mon 
would  foul  his  ane  nest,  would  feicht  his  ane  hame  folk 
when  t'ey  only  pe  wanting  to  ha'  their  ane.  I  want 
no  more  to  see  Duncan;  he's  a  Tory,  a  Tory.  Carolina 
is  t'e  only  country  I  know  an'  love,  but  come  in.  Hunter, 
ma  lass  will  give  ye  bite  and  sup." 

Elspeth  MacPherson  was  a  comely  Scotch  woman 
of  robust  type  with  hair  of  golden  bronze  and  big 
brown  eyes,  ruddy  round  cheeks  and  a  smiling  mouth 
that  dimly  displayed  a  double  row  of  handsome,  pearly 
teeth.  Her  husband  was  known  throughout  their  settle- 
ment as  the  big,  ugly  MacPherson,  while  she  was 
greatly  beloved  and  bore  the  name  of  Honey  Mac- 
Pherson, because  of  her  loving  nature  and  sweet,  sunny 
temper.  She  came  to  the  door  of  the  cabin  just  as 
Sandy  and  Hunter  approached  it,  and  seeing  the  bloody 
breeches  and  halting  step  of  Hunter,  exclaimed,  "Oh, 
Mr.  Hunter;  you  pe  wounded.  Sandy,  carry  Mr.  Hun- 
ter into  our  room  and  get  him  to  bed;  we  can  then  see 
what  is  the  best  thing  to  do  for  him." 

Hunter  soon  took  off  his  outer  garments,  and  Sandy 
carefully  bathed  the  wound,  which  was  through  the 
fleshy  part  of  his  thigh,  the  ball  having  lodged  in  the 
bone,  and  then  proceeded  to  exercise  a  little  skill  which 


FANNING   LOSES    THE    BAY   DOE       257 

he  had  attained  by  long  practice,  and,  using  a  probe 
of  his  own  making,  soon  located  the  ball. 

"T'ey  plugged  you  goot.  Hunter;  take  a  swig  at  t'e 
bottle  and  I  will  dig  out  t'at  ball.  When  t'at  ese  out, 
Honey  will  haf  you  something  to  eat.'* 

The  rough-looking  Scotch  amateur  surgeon  was  very 
gentle  and  tender,  and  it  did  not  take  him  long  to  dis- 
lodge the  ball  and  to  draw  it  carefully  out  to  the 
surface  along  the  track  of  the  wound,  exclaiming, 
"T'ere  now;  t'ese  out.  I  will  bathe  and  dress  ter  wound, 
and  then  you  eat  something  and  go  to  sleep.  Honey, 
Honey,  fetch  Hunter  something."  Quick  to  respond, 
Elspeth  brought  in  a  substantial  meal,  and  Hunter, 
having  satisfied  his  hunger,  was  soon  overcome  by 
exhaustion  and  sank  into  quiet  slumber. 

"Sandy,"  said  Elspeth,  as  they  sat  by  the  cookroom 
ingle,  "Sandy,  'tis  brutal,  this  shooting  honest  folk  on 
ter  highways;  why  does  not  some  one  kill  Fanning?" 

"Why  does  not  some  one  kill  ter  devil.  Honey?  Fan- 
nin' will  soon  have  ter  leave  t'e  province  or  we  will 
hunt  him  down  like  ter  wolf  he  pe;  yet  he  kills  many 
of  t'e  best  people;  he  purns  parnes  and  houses.  Just 
to  think.  Honey,  my  own  brother  Duncan  ese  in  t'at 
beesness  with  Fannin' ;  he  should  never  see  wife  or  home 
more;  he  petter  not  see  Sandy  MacPherson  any  more." 

"Never  harm  your  ane  brither  Duncan,  Sandy;  he 
is  your  ane  bluid,  bad  though  he  be.  He  will  find  a 
hame  elsewhere  when  t'e  fighting  es  over,  for  this  settle- 
ment will  not  be  a  neighborly  place  ter  him." 

"Ant  he  go  away,  Sandy  MacPherson  will  not  harm 
him,  put  love  him  any  more  I  never  shall.  Honey.  Hese 
hand  is  red  wi'  bluid,  and  tese  t'e  bluid  o'  kindred, 
neighbors;  shame  on  him." 

Hunter  slept  soundly  through  the  night  and  was  too 


258  THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

sore  and  weak  to  arise^  although  he  was  awake  by  early 
dawn.  "How  pe  you  t'is  morn,  Hunter?"  questioned 
Sandy  as  with  the  soft  tread  of  an  Indian  he  entered  the 
room. 

"I  am  very  sore,  Sandy;  that  thigh  is  as  yet  quite 
useless;  but  a  little  bathing  and  a  few  days  of  rest 
will  doubtless  give  me  the  use  of  two  legs  again." 

"T'e  pay  Doe  ese  gaily  t'is  morn;  she  runs  like  t'e 
wind,  takes  her  oats  and  maize  lively." 

"I  am  glad  her  ladyship  is  so  spry,  Sandy,  and  I 
think  she  will  be  worth  my  getting  shot,  for  it's  an  ill 
wind  blows  no  one  good  luck." 

"If  dat  devil  Fanning  will  let  your  hame  pe,  'twould 
pe  a  good  trade.  Hunter,  put  I  fear  he  will  take  ven- 
geance on  helpless  folk;  ter  devil!" 

"True,  true,  Sandy;  and  I  am  almost  afraid  to  hear 
from  wife  and  children." 

"He  will  take  t'e  niggers,  too.  Hunter,  an'  purn  what 
he'll  no'  carry  awa'.  Fannin'  is  t'e  devil.  When  you 
can  ride,  you  go  on  to  Pee  Dee  ant  get  yer  groceries. 
I  will  tak'  a  few  neighbors  ant  look  after  your  folk; 
if  Fannin'  comes  in  our  way,  somepody  will  pe  dead." 

At  this  moment  the  bright  face  of  Honey  MacPher- 
son  illumined  the  doorway,  and  her  cheery  voice  was 
like  music.  "You'll  no'  pe  getting  up,  Mr.  Hunter, 
but  breakfast  is  ready  and  I  have  brought  you  a  bite 
and  some  fresh  milk." 

"He  maun  ha'  t'e  nip  first.  Honey;  where's  t'e  plack 
pottle?"  said  Sandy. 

"Mayhap  Mr.  Hunter  thinks  no'  so  much  o'  the  nip 
as  you  do,  Sandy,  but  a  wee  drop  o*  whiskey  would  help 
him.  So  the  black  bottle  is  not  far  awa',"  and  with 
smiling  face  and  brisk  step  Honey  MacPherson  went 
to  fetch  it. 


.FANNING   LOSES    THE    BAY   DOE       259 

**T'at  looks  lak  comfort.  Honey,"  said  Sandy  as  his 
wife  appeared,  black  bottle  in  hand.  "Now,  Hunter, 
take  a  good  swig,  it  will  warm  yer  bluid,  and  you  will 
eat  t'e  venison  broil  lak  well  folk." 

"I  ha'  a  rival,  Mr.  Hunter,"  said  Elspeth  with  a 
smile.  "Sandy  loves  t'at  black  bottle  almost  as  weel  as 
his  wife,  an'  sometimes  I  fear  he  loves  it  too  weel." 

"Na,  na.  Honey,  no  fear;  was  ter  plack  pottle  ter 
poke  hese  ugly  mow  atween  us.  Honey,  tese  good-bye; 
a  should  smash  it  ag'in'  yon  big  pine  tree."  And 
Elspeth  knew  that  Sandy  had  Scotch  tenacity  enough 
to  do  as  he  said,  and  was  comforted. 

While  Hunter  found  shelter  with  Sandy  and  Elspeth 
MacPherson  and  soon  became  well  enough  to  resume 
his  journey  to  the  Pee  Dee,  the  venom  of  Fanning 
guided  him  to  Hunter's  home,  and  in  revenge  for  the 
loss  of  the  bay  Doe  he  desolated  that  home,  carrying 
away  wife,  children  and  slaves;  sending  a  message  to 
Hunter  that  when  the  bay  Doe  was  returned  he  might 
have  them  back  again.  Hunter  kept  the  mare.  Many 
were  the  tribulations  of  the  Hunters  before  their  final 
reunion,  and  they  were  greatly  indebted  to  the  Mac- 
Phersons  for  friendly  shelter  when  homeless.  Hunter 
finally  removed  to  the  Pee  Dee  country,  and  there 
became  a  prosperous  citizen  of  the  young  republic. 
The  bay  Doe  and  her  descendants  became  famous  for 
their  speed  and  quality  throughout  the  Pee  Dee,  and 
\even  to-day  there  are  fine  horses  in  South  and  North 
iCarolina  that  claim,  through  their  owners,  the  blood  of 
Ithe  bay  Doe;  blood  that  is  far  purer  and  carries  with 
it  higher  qualities  than  that  of  David  Fanning. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

THE  BEGINNING   OF    THE   END 

The  months  of  the  year  1782  dragged  slowly  along, 
and  while  David  Fanning's  power  was  fast  waning, 
and  the  close  of  that  year  found  him  without  a  British 
soldier  in  the  Carolinas  to  encourage  him  in  his  nefari- 
ous endeavors.  Daddy  Scurlock  and  Aunt  Mandy  had 
been  afraid  to  bring  Polly  Rutherford  back  to  Skin 
Quarter,  for  occasional  raids  were  made  into  the  Brush 
Creek  settlement,  each  outrage,  however,  tending  to 
convert  the  weak  and  timorous,  to  making  stronger  the 
Whig  following.  In  Guilford,  Tory  influence  had 
greatly  weakened,  and  the  people  around  Alamance  and 
Buffalo  churches  had  the  prospect  before  them  of  spend- 
ing a  peaceful  Christmas,  and  were  greatly  rejoicing 
over  the  bright  outlook  for  a  return  of  peace,  and  the 
expected  homecoming  of  many  fathers  and  brothers 
who  for  months  had  been  in  the  field.  Christmas  eve 
dawned  dark  and  ^oomy,  the  wind  was  tossing  the 
branches  of  the  oaks  surrounding  the  parsonage,  and 
whirling  the  leaves  about,  piling  them  in  the  fence 
corners  and  again  scattering  them  with  an  angry  blast. 
Soon  the  snow  began  to  fall,  and  there  was  a  promise 
of  a  storm  that  should  bury  the  old  year  in  a  white 
shroud,  with  enough  of  white  left  to  enfold  the  baby 
form  of  the  new  year  in  snowy  garments. 

"Oh,  how  it   snows.  Aunt   Rachel,"   exclaimed  Polly 

260 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE    END       261 

Rutherford.  "I  do  wonder  if  any  of  our  poor  soldiers 
are  on  the  road  in  this  storm."  Polly  was  standing  by 
a  little  window  that  looked  out  on  the  wild  scene,  in 
the  direction  of  the  walkway  from  the  front  gate;  in 
striking  contrast  was  it  to  the  warm,  cheerful  chamber 
of  Mrs.  Caldwell.  "And  to  think,  too.  Aunt  Rachel,'* 
she  continued,  "Uncle  Caldwell  has  to  come  home  this 
afternoon  from  Mr.  Gordon's." 

"It  is  a  stormy  day  indeed,  Polly,  and  while  we 
should  be  lonely  to-night  without  Uncle  Caldwell,  I 
had  rather  for  his  comfort  that  he  stayed  all  night  at 
Brother  Gordon's,  than  to  have  him  come  home  through 
this  freezing  blast.  We  should  thank  the  Master  of  the 
storm  that  we,  and  those  who  look  to  us  for  protection 
and  comfort,  are  safely  housed.  Even  our  cattle,  sheep 
and  pigs  are  safe  in  byre,  fold  and  pen,  and  there  is 
food  and  warmth  for  all.  May  our  soldiers  fare  as  well 
as  we,  but  I  fear  some  of  them  are  'in  the  cauld  blast.'  " 

"Did  not  Aunt  Patsy  Gordon  tell  us  on  last  Sunday, 
Aunt  Rachel,  that  our  troop  would  soon  come  home 
now.'' 

"Yea,  Sister  Patsy  hath  been  looking  for  Colonel 
Paisly  by  Christmastide,  and  this  is  the  eve  of  that 
day.  Child,  I  would  they  could  have  reached  Rafe 
Gordon's  or  our  house  before  this  storm,  for  'tis  going 
to  be  a  fearsome  spell,  I  trow." 

"He  tempereth  the  wind.  Aunt  Rachel,  and  while  the 
storm  is  awesome,  our  soldiers  are  so  brave,  so  hardy. 
They  mind  not  what  we  poor  womenfolk  would  shrink 
from  facing,  yet  I  would  gladly  see  them  under  shelter 
to-night." 

"What  hour  doth  the  clock  say,  Polly?  It  hath 
turned  so  dark  'tis  like  twilight." 

"Only   two   o'clock.    Aunt   Rachel;   night   will    settle 


262  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

upon  us  before  five,"  and  Polly  placed  on  the  wide  fire- 
place a  few  fat  pieces  of  lightwood  that  sent  a  ruddy 
glow  into  the  darkest  corner  of  the  room,  dispelling 
gloom  and  enabling  her  to  resume  a  bit  of  fine  ruffle 
work  she  had  been  doing.  The  two  women  sat  silently 
by  the  bright  fire  for  awhile,  the  only  sounds  being  the 
light  tap  of  some  half-frozen  flakes  against  the  windows, 
the  roar  of  the  blazing  fire  within,  of  the  tempest  with- 
out, and  the  click  of  Aunt  Rachel's  needles  as  she  sat 
knitting.  Polly  Rutherford  was  clad  in  a  close-fitting 
gown  of  glossy  black  homespun,  with  Irish  linen  cuffs 
and  collar  of  snowj''  whiteness.  The  gown  had  been 
woven  and  dyed  in  Aunt  Rachel's  weaving  room,  and 
presented  to  her  by  Aunt  Rachel  soon  after  Luke's 
death.  With  it  she  always  wore  linen  collars  and  cuffs 
of  her  own  making.  Her  fair  skin,  bright  color,  shining 
hair  like  a  golden  sunset,  and  violet  eyes  would  have 
made  her  beautiful  at  any  time,  but  the  black  gown  was 
exceedingly  becoming,  too,  and  seemed  to  enhance  every 
attraction  she  possessed.  There  was  a  tender  shade  of 
sadness  about  her  expressive  mouth,  a  sadness  born 
of  an  early  sorrow  that  made  her  lovable  indeed.  Look- 
ing up  from  her  knitting.  Aunt  Rachel  said,  while  a 
sweet  smile  lighted  her  face,  "You  look  very  winsome, 
my  child;  black  is  a  becoming  color  to  you.  You  have 
become  very  dear  to  me  and  to  the  doctor,  Polly,  and  it 
will  be  hard  the  giving  you  up.  How  Mandy  has 
spared  you  all  these  months  I  know  not;  you  will  never 
know,  child,  what  it  has  cost  her." 

*'No  one  will  ever  know  how  I  grieve  for  mammy, 
Aunt  Rachel,  and,  but  for  the  tender  love  you  and 
Uncle  Caldwell  have  lavished  upon  me,  I  should  have 
wept  my  heart  out.  It  seems  like  an  age  since  I  left 
Skin     Quarter,     and" — Polly's     voice     trembled — "like 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE   END        263 

years  since  that  dreadful  night  when  dear  Luke  lay 
dead  before  my  eyes  in  Aunt  Patsy's  drawing-room. 
I  should  look  faded,  not  winsome,  Aunt  Rachel." 

"Put  aside  your  ruffling,  Polly  darling,  and  come  to 
me.  I  wish  to  have  your  loving  kiss  and  to  feel  those 
arms  about  me,  and  to  talk  to  you;  we  are  all  alone 
this  stormy  day,  the  younger  folk  are  entertaining  them- 
selves." 

Polly  Rutherford  laid  down  the  work,  and,  coming 
to  Aunt  Rachel,  was  soon  enfolded  in  her  arms,  and 
with  a  sob  sheltered  her  sunny  head  upon  the  heart 
that  knew  so  well  how  to  brighten  and  comfort  her 
young  life.  Returning  Polly's  kiss.  Aunt  Rachel  said 
tenderly,  "The  dews  of  divine  grace  have  prevented 
thee  from  fading,  my  child;  and  the  Father,  I  trow, 
hath  yet  bright  days  for  thee." 

"Had  I  been  less  cruel  to  Luke,  Aunt  Rachel,  my 
grief  at  his  loss  would  be  less  painful.  I  know  not 
why  girls  should  so  often  give  to  true  hearts  needless 
pain.  I  learned  Luke's  true  value  after  his  noble  life 
had  been  quenched  in  death." 

"Thou  art  not  alone  in  that,  my  child;  our  tongues 
often  inflict  wounds  deeper  than  the  sword.  But  com- 
fort thine  heart,  darling;  thy  last  words  to  Luke  were 
tender  and  a  prayer  for  his  safe  return.  God,  who  is 
wise  in  all  His  ways,  demanded  of  Luke  and  of  you  a 
sacrifice,  and  now  we  must  all  strive  to  say  from  the 
heart,  'Thy  will  be  done.'  Not  now,  but  in  the  better 
land  we  shall  see  the  reason  for  it  all." 

"I  do  not  doubt  that.  Aunt  Rachel,  but  our  hearts 
must  be  sore  in  receiving  such  a  wound  as  I  did;  I 
loved  Luke  more  truly  than  I  thought." 

"I  know  thine  heart  is  sore,  my  child,  but,  realizing  a 
Father's  hand  in  the  affliction,  thou  shouldst  find  much 


264  THE  MASTER  OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

comfort  in  submission.  In  His  own  time  He  will  heal; 
you  are  young;  in  all  probability  you  have  a  long  life 
before  you,  and  your  loving  heart  may  yet  carry  sun- 
shine into  some  other  life;  some  other  home." 

Polly  Rutherford's  tear-stained  cheeks  flushed  as  she 
sadly  shook  her  head,  saying,  "I  know  'never'  is  a  long 
word,  but,  Aunt  Rachel,  I  do  not  feel  now  as  if  I  ever 
wanted  a  home  of  my  own.  I  had  rather  dwell  with 
mammy,  and  when  I  want  a  change  I  shall  always  have 
a  home  with  you  and  Uncle  Caldwell." 

"Always,  my  child;  and  gladly  will  we  ever  keep 
thee  as  long  as  we  can.  I  have  a  hope,  my  child,  that 
when  thou  dost  have  a  home  of  thy  own  that  it  will  be 
near  us;  I  know  some  one  else  who  hopes  so,  too, 
Polly." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Rachel." 

"Remember,  child,  I  would  not  have  thee  cherish  less 
the  memory  of  Luke  S tailings,  for  he  was  worthy,  but 
a  heart  so  young,  so  bright  and  winning  as  thine  cannot 
live  on  through  the  years  loving  only  the  dead.  It  may 
become  thy  duty,  thy  privilege,  to  have  thy  heart  again 
filled  with  a  living  love;  if  so,  do  not  cast  it  from  thee; 
that  would  be  ungrateful  to  the  great  Giver." 

"Can  a  new  love  so  entirely  dispossess  an  old  love. 
Aunt  Rachel.^" 

"Nay,  my  child;  the  old  love  is  a  holy  thing  that 
keeps  its  own  place  in  the  heart;  we  never  cease  to 
love  our  dead.  The  newer  love  is  a  separate  growth, 
but  it  may  be  as  noble,  as  true,  as  tender,  as  the  old 
love,  and  may  make  our  lives  very  beautiful,  very 
happy.  Be  restfuUy  calm,  my  child,  and  follow  the 
leadings  of  thy  Heavenly  Father's  hand." 

During  the  conversation  the  storm  had  increased  and 
the  real  twilight  had  thickened  until,  as  the  servants 


THE    BEGINNING    OF    THE    END       265 

passed  from  the  house  to  the  kitchen  or  moved  about 
in  performing  the  needed  duties  about  the  place,  they 
could  be  seen  only  as  a  dim  shadow,  and  the  night 
promised  to  be  dark  and  dreary. 

"Let  me  make  up  our  fire  again,  Aunt  Rachel,"  said 
Polly,  arising  from  the  snug  shelter  in  Mrs.  Caldwell's 
arms.  "Should  Uncle  Caldwell  come  home  this  evening, 
we  must  have  a  bright  light  and  a  good  fire  to  welcome 
and  warm  him.  How  often  have  I  looked  for  the  light 
from  the  window,  as  in  the  twilight  I  neared  my  own 
home.  Aunt  Rachel,  and  the  glow  of  it  always  warmed 
my  heart  and  quickened  my  steps."  While  Polly  laid 
on  the  sticks  Mrs.  Caldwell  lighted  candles,  and  placed 
a  lard-oil  lamp  on  the  oval  candle  stand,  so  that  its 
light  should  shine  through  the  window  and  along  the 
path  from  the  gate  to  the  porch.  "Now  we  only  await 
Uncle's  coming,  Aunt  Rachel,"  said  Polly  as  they  again 
gathered  around  the  warm  ingle. 

"We  have  not  long  to  wait,  Polly  darling;  I  hear  the 
doctor  calling  Ben.  What  a  dreadful  ride  he  must  have 
had,  and  in  the  reflected  light  from  the  window  upon 
the  snow  I  think  I  see  two  men  with  him." 

"Yes,  there  are  two,  Aunt  Rachel." 

Through  the  deep  drifts  the  three  waded  to  the  porch, 
and  by  heavy  stamping  and  shaking  succeeded  in  get- 
ting rid  of  huge  piles  of  snow;  then  the  doctor  opened 
the  door  from  the  porch  into  the  front  entry  and  fol- 
lowed Colonel  Paisly  and  Lieutenant  Sowell  into  the 
house,  where  they  were  met  by  Mrs.  Caldwell  and  Polly 
Rutherford. 

"Thou  wert  brave,  David,  to  face  the  storm  to-night, 
but  thou  hadst  good  company.  Welcome,  Colonel 
Paisly;  welcome.  Lieutenant  Sowell;  come  into  my  room, 
gentlemen.     But  here  is  a  lass  that  would  greet  both 


266  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

of  you."  Polly  extended  her  hand  to  Colonel  Paisly, 
saying,  "A  glad  homecoming  to  you,  Colonel."  Then 
turning,  gave  Joel  Sowell  a  hearty  hand  clasp,  saying, 
"I  am  glad  for  you  and  for  Roxy,  too,  that  you  returned 
in  safety." 

Soon  they  were  all  seated  in  Aunt  Rachel's  chamber, 
the  bright  fire  melting  the  snow  from  those  bearded 
soldiers,  and  warmed  them  into  a  cheerful  and  thankful 
mood  as  they  chatted  with  the  doctor  and  Polly,  for 
Aunt  Rachel  had  gone  to  hasten  a  hot  supper. 

Colonel  Paisly  took  a  seat  near  Polly  and  took  an 
early  opportunity  to  thank  her  for  her  cheery  welcome. 
"My  homecoming  is  a  glad  one.  Miss  Polly  Rutherford, 
for  I  can  return  with  honor,  my  country  no  longer  need- 
ing my  services  in  the  field.  Now  I  shall  see  what 
Providence  and  duty  have  in  store  for  me.  I  shall 
return  to  an  impoverished  farm,  and  must  labor  with 
mine  own  head  and  hands  to  rebuild  my  shattered  for- 
tunes and  to  help  my  neighbors,  but  I  have  so  much 
to  be  thankful  for  I  should  not  repine.  Why  He  has 
spared  me  and  taken  two  of  my  dearest  friends  I  know 
not,  but  surely  the  Lord  has  still  some  good  use  for 
me."  The  earnest  face  of  Colonel  Paisly  wore  a  sad 
and  sober  expression  as  he  spoke,  and  his  lips  parted 
into  a  faint  smile  as  he  gazed  into  Polly's  face. 

"I  do  not  doubt  that  the  Lord  has  some  noble  work 
for  you,  Colonel;  He  has  work  for  us  all,  and  He  gives 
us  ability  according  to  our  need.  Your  dear  mother 
will  be  greatly  comforted  to  have  you  home  again,  and 
I  am  sure  you  can  be  of  great  service  to  the  people 
among  whom  you  dwell.  Aunt  Rachel  says  we  may 
never  know  the  'Why'  of  God's  dealings  until  we  reach 
the  better  land." 

"My  idea   of  life,  Miss  Polly   Rutherford,  is   living 


THE   BEGINNING    OF   THE   END       267 

for  others.  That  is  a  poor  life  that  is  bounded  by  the 
sphere  of  self.  I  would  like  some  time  to  talk  with 
you  about  ideal  living;  I  am  sure  you  could  appreciate 
the  views  I  should  advance,  for  they  are  founded  on 
Holy  Writ.  But  returning  to  the  present,  I  would 
ask  if  you  thought  of  returning  home  early  in  the  new 
year? 

"I  have  not  heard  from  home  for  nearly  two  months. 
Colonel;  but  now  that  the  war  is  nearly  over,  I  should 
not  be  surprised  to  see  daddy  ride  up  to  the  gate  any 
day.  In  her  last  letter  mammy  said  she  must  have 
me  home  in  January  if  there  was  an  opportunity  to  get 
me  a  suitable  escort." 

"I  am  not  serving  my  own  interests  by  the  suggestion, 
Miss  Polly  Rutherford,  for  I  don't  want  to  see  you  go, 
but  Joel  Sowell,  Charley  Sheering,  and  the  other  sol- 
diers from  Brush  Creek  will  be  going  home  as  soon  as 
this  storm  is  over  and  the  roads  get  passable.  For  a 
few  days  they  will  remain  at  Uncle  Rafe  Gordon's,  and 
here,  waiting  on  the  roads,  then  they  will  depart. 
Should  you  wish  to  accompany  them,  I  will  volunteer 
as  your  special  escort  and  take  the  best  of  care  of 
you." 

"Thank  you  most  kindly.  Colonel;  I  shall  be  governed 
in  my  homeward  movements  by  what  Uncle  Caldwell 
thinks  best,  in  the  event  that  daddy  does  not  come 
before  the  Brush  Creek  boys  depart.  But  with  so  many 
home  people  to  care  for  me,  would  it  not  be  a  trespass 
on  your  valuable  time  for  you  to  take  that  long  journey 
now.'* 

"And  does  Miss  Polly  Rutherford  think  it  would  be 
no  pleasure  to  me  to  take  that  journey  for  her  sake? 
Unless  you  forbid  my  going,  I  shall  certainly  go  to 
Skin  Quarter  when  you  do." 


268  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"Oh,  I  shall  not  forbid  your  going.  Colonel,  and  am 
grateful  that  you  deem  so  tedious  a  journey  a  pleas- 
ure, so  we  will  talk  further  about  that  later.  I  see 
Aunt  Rachel  is  coming  to  tell  us  that  supper  is  ready," 
and  with  a  sweet  smile  and  roses  in  her  cheeks,  Polly 
arose  and  led  the  way  to  the  dining  room. 

During  supper  Colonel  Paisly  and  Lieutenant  Sowell 
gave  a  thrilling  account  of  their  recent  experiences  in 
South  Carolina,  and  the  colonel  told  the  sad  story  of 
the  heroic  death  of  his  beloved  friend,  Colonel  John 
Laurens.  "His  dying  words  are  immortal,  John 
Paisly,"  said  Doctor  Caldwell.  "It  is  true  indeed  that 
'sacrifice  is  the  price  of  liberty,'  and  it  is  through  the 
vicarious  offering  of  those  whose  lives  have  been  sur- 
rendered on  more  than  a  hundred  battlefields  that  we 
who  survive  shall  inherit  religious  and  civil  freedom." 

"Now,  doctor,  it  remains  to  be  seen  that  we  be  found 
worthy  of  this  great  trust,"  said  Paisly. 

"True  indeed,  John;  we  pass  from  a  state  of  war 
into  the  formative  period,  and  it  will  take  wisdom, 
statesmanship,  patriotism  and  unselfishness  to  evolve 
a  sweet  and  wholesome  freedom  out  of  our  conditions. 
God  will  guide  us  if  we  only  seek  Him." 

"Did  you  hear,  John,  that  congress  marched  in  a 
body  to  church  to  thank  God  for  the  great  victory  at 
Yorktown  }" 

"Ah,  that  was  glorious.  It  was  a  fitting  tribute  of 
thanks  to  the  source  of  all  victory." 

"I  heard  it,  doctor,  and  from  that  moment  I  felt  that 
our  liberties  were  assured.  'If  God  be  for  us,  who  can 
be  against  us?'  and  now  every  true  man  should  give  his 
best  services  to  the  upbuilding  of  our  waste  places,  to 
helping  our  religious  and  moral  education,  to  securing 
the  best  form  of  representative  civil  government.      Ill 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE    END       269 

fares  the  land  that  is  sunken  in  ignorance  and  has  no 
God." 

"Would  that  all  our  young  men  were  Godfearing  men, 
John  Paisly,  then  the  task  before  us  would  be  simple. 
But  our  French  allies  have  brought  with  them  to  our 
shores  strange  gods,  and  many  young  and  ambitious 
men  among  us  are  deifying  the  god  of  reason  or  goddess 
of  liberty.  There  is  no  safety  in  any  government  by 
the  people  unless  that  people  recognize  and  strive  to 
serve  the  only  God.  Let  us  go  to  the  throne  of  grace 
and  ask  for  wisdom  and  strength  in  this  crucial  time," 
and  Doctor  Caldwell,  receiving  from  Polly  Rutherford's 
hand  the  old  family  Bible,  read  the  46th  Psalm,  his  deep 
tones  uttering  those  soul-thrilling  words,  "God  is  our 
refuge  and  strength,  a  very  present  help  in  trouble." 
Then  in  his  tender  way  he  brought  all  the  cares  and 
troubles  that  encompassed  his  people,  his  friends,  his 
own  heart  and  home,  to  the  Mighty  Helper,  with  a  faith 
that  brought  comfort  and  peace. 

The  storm  still  raged,  and  promised  to  last  for  many 
hours.  The  little  company  gathered  after  prayers 
around  the  cheerful  fire  in  Aunt  Rachel's  room,  and  so 
much  was  there  to  talk  about  and  so  swiftly  passed  the 
moments  the  clock  was  striking  eleven  before  a  thought 
was  given  to  seeking  needed  rest.  Doctor  Caldwell 
walked  to  the  little  window  from  whence  the  friendly 
light  still  streamed  out  upon  the  deep  snowdrifts  be- 
tween the  house  and  the  gate,  and,  looking  out,  seemed 
to  be  listening  very  intently. 

"Hark!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  hear  some  one  calling. 
Surely  some  poor  wayfarer  is  out  in  this  storm."  And 
going  into  the  entry  he  threw  open  the  front  door  and 
met  a  cutting,  snow-laden  blast.  "Who  is  there  .^"  he 
called. 


270  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"A  traveler  who  has  lost  his  way.  I  am  looking  for 
the  home  of  David  Caldwell." 

"I  know  that  voice.  'Tis  some  one  I  should  know. 
This  is  David  Caldwell's,  come  in."  And  the  doctor 
stepped  out  into  a  drift  nearly  up  to  his  waist,  and 
struggled  down  the  walk  to  meet  the  traveler. 

"And  this  is  David  Caldwell;  have  ye  not  a  lass  o* 
mine  here?  I  have  been  wandering  about  the  roads 
in  this  dreadful  storm  and  fortunately  saw  that  friendly 
light." 

"Bless  your  dear  soul,  it  is  Amen  Scurlock.  My 
dear  friend,  come  in  out  of  the  storm.  Ben,  Ben,  come 
take  Mr.  Scurlock's  horse  and  give  him  warm  shelter 
and  plenty  of  corn  and  fodder." 

The  half-frozen  form  of  Amen  Scurlock  was  a  mass 
of  snow,  and  his  limbs,  stiff  and  numb,  moved  slowly 
as  he  followed  Doctor  Caldwell  into  the  entry.  Then 
removing  his  outer  wraps,  he  was  taken  into  Aunt 
Rachel's  warm  chamber  to  receive  most  hearty  greet- 
ings. Polly  Rutherford  could  scarcely  believe  her  own 
eyes  as  Daddy  Scurlock  walked  in;  then,  with  a  cry 
of  delight,  her  arms  were  about  his  neck  and  tears 
streaming  down  her  rosy  cheeks  as  she  exclaimed,  "Oh, 
daddy,  daddy,  my  dear  old  daddy!  how  delighted  I  am 
to  see  you.  But  you  are  nearly  frozen,  poor  daddy," 
and  with  her  soft  warm  hands  she  chafed  his  stiff  and 
icy  fingers. 

"My  sweet  lass,  old  daddy  is  very  cold,  but  his  heart 
is  warm,  and  I  am  precious  glad  to  see  my  darling  gal. 
How  well  ye  look;  surely  Sister  Rachel  and  Brother 
Caldwell  have  nurtured  thee  well." 

"Aunt  Rachel  and  Uncle  Caldwell  are  my  other  daddy 
and  mammy,  my  dearest  daddy,  and  this  is  my  other 
home;  am  I  not  rich?" 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE    END        271 

"Verily  thou  art^  child;  but  Skin  Quarter  is  desolate 
without  thee,  and  Mandy  is  grieving  sore  at  thy  long 
absence." 

"Dear  old  mammy!  I  must  go  to  her,  daddy,  so  soon 
as  this  dreadful  storm  passes,  and  the  roads  are  such  as 
we  can  travel.  But  I  am  selfish,  daddy;  here  is  Colo- 
nel Paisly,  Joel  Sowell  and  Aunt  Rachel,  all  waiting 
to  welcome  vou." 

Aunt  Rachel  was  the  first  to  assure  Daddy  Scurlock 
of  a  hearty  welcome.  "The  night  is  so  stormy.  Brother 
Scurlock,  thou  mightst  have  frozen  out  in  the  cold 
blast.  God  be  praised  that  thou  didst  reach  warm 
shelter.** 

"It  was  the  light  that  saved  me.  Sister  Rachel;  I 
followed  it  for  nearly  a  mile.     Bless  God  for  that  light.** 

"  'Tis  ever  my  custom.  Brother  Scurlock,  to  place 
the  lamp  near  that  window  on  stormy  nights;  it  looks 
cheerful  from  the  outside,  and  hath  brought  to  shelter 
more  than  one  traveler  before  to-night.'* 

"I  have  watched  for  it  many  a  night,"  said  Colonel 
Paisly.  "I  am  glad  indeed  it  brought  you  safely  out 
of  the  storm,  Mr.  Scurlock,  and  it  is  an  object  lesson. 
We  should  all  let  our  light  shine  out  upon  a  darkened 
world  of  sin.'* 

"Very  true.  Colonel;  and  here  now  is  my  old  friend 
and  neighbor,  Joel  Sowell;  he  has  a  bright  light  and  a 
shining  little  tupenny  rushlight  waitin'  for  him  at 
Skin  Quarter.  Joel,  you  just  ought  to  see  Roxy  and 
little  Tony  Scurlock.  He  can  talk  right  sharp,  and 
says  often  to  me,  'Daddy,  Tory  mean.'  "  The  lids  of 
Joel's  eyes  were  moist  as  he  grasped  Daddy  Scurlock's 
hand,  and  his  voice  trembled  as  he  said,  "My  wife  and 
baby  are  indeed  lights  to  guide  me  home,  Daddy  Scur- 


272  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

lock,  and  I  shall  try  and  live  my  gratitude  to  you  for 
your  fatherly  care  of  them." 

"Hush,  boy;  Roxy  and  Tony  are  child  and  grand- 
child to  me.'* 

"This  is  all  very  pleasant,  indeed,"  said  Doctor  Cald- 
well, "if  there  were  no  morning,  but  Christmas  morning 
will  soon  be  here,  and  I  am  sure  all  our  travelers  need 
sleep.  Brother  Scurlock  needs  warm  drink  and  a  bite 
of  something  substantial;  a  little  something  more  would 
not  hurt  any  of  us  this  cold  night." 

Aunt  Rachel  had  provided  for  just  what  she  knew 
was  needed,  and,  after  another  visit  to  the  dining  room, 
the  guests  were  shown  by  Doctor  Caldwell  to  warm 
rooms  and  comfortable  goose-down  beds,  and  were  soon 
sleeping  soundly  regardless  of  the  storm  that  raged 
around  them. 

Christmas  morning  dawned  and  still  the  storm  did 
not  abate;  the  wildness  of  the  early  morning  being 
almost  equal  to  the  darker  hours  of  night.  Doctor 
Caldwell  was  stirring  with  the  earliest  streak  of  light, 
and  found  Ben  and  three  of  the  plantation  hands  dig- 
ging paths  through  the  snowdrifts  to  the  kitchen,  dairy, 
barn  and  stables,  and  there  was  some  one  else  at  work 
with  them  in  the  dim  dawn  light. 

"Why,  Brother  Scurlock,  what  are  you  doing  out 
here?" 

"Shovelin*  snow,"  was  the  quaint  reply.  "It's  fine 
work;  sets  yer  blood  a-goin';  I  shall  have  a  fine  appe- 
tite for  my  breakfast." 

"Come  along,  let  the  men  finish  that  work,  brother, 
and  we  will  take  a  turn  through  the  stables  and  see 
how  the  horses  are  faring." 

"They  are  fed  long  ago.  Brother  Caldwell,  and  have 
warm  shelter;  my  nag  is  a  little  the  worse  for  her  bout 


THE   BEGINNING   OF    THE   END       273 

with  the  storm,  but  takes  the  feed  kindly  and  only  needs 
rest." 

"That  she  is  likely  to  get.  Brother  Scurlock,  for  the 
roads  will  be  quite  impassable  for  at  least  two  weeks; 
you  should  wait  until  a  track  is  well  broken." 

"I  shall  have  to_,  and  even  then  there  are  swollen 
streams  to  cross  and  bridges  to  mend  as  we  go,  for 
this  thaw  will  be  dreadful.  I  must  get  ahead  of  the 
thaw  if  possible." 

As  they  passed  near  the  stall  of  Dapple,  she  heard 
the  voice  of  her  old  master  and  gave  a  whinny  of 
recognition,  and  he  could  not  resist  her  call. 

"She  knows  you,"  said  the  doctor. 

"I  should  think  so.  Dapple,  come  here."  And  the 
gray  beauty  turned  in  her  stall  and  lovingly  rested  her 
head  upon  Amen  Scurlock's  shoulder,  then  thrust  her 
nose  into  his  huge  coat  pocket. 

"Up  to  old  tricks,  gal!  "WTiat  did  ye  find?"  as 
Dapple  began  munching  something.  "Ha !  I  had  a  few 
ginger  cakes  in  my  pocket  and  she  has  found  them. 
She  is  a  knowin'  creatur'.  Brother  Caldwell,  and  we 
were  just  afraid  to  keep  her  in  Chatham  as  long  as 
Fanning's  gang  were  about;  they  would  certainly  have 
stolen  her  and  her  mistress,  too.  We  owe  you  a  debt 
we   can  never   pay.   Brother   Caldwell." 

"Tut,  tut,  man;  speak  no  more  in  that  fashion.  Polly 
Rutherford  is  as  dear  to  Rachel  and  to  me  as  our  own 
children.  What  we  are  to  do  when  you  take  her  away 
we  do  not  know;  it  is  we  that  are  indebted  to  you.  But 
hark,  I  hear  the  summons  to  worship;  we  shall  find 
them  all  astir  when  we  get  to  the  house." 

"A  blessed  Christmas  to  all !"  exclaimed  Doctor  Cald- 
well as  he  followed  Amen  Scurlock  into  the  drawing- 
room,  now  well  warmed  by  a  light  wood  log  fire. 


274  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

"A  happy^  a  joyous  Christmas  to  all!"  exclaimed 
Polly,  "and  a  Christmas  kiss  to  my  dear  old  daddy." 

"I   want   one,  too,   Polly   darling,"   cried   the   doctor. 

"You  shall  have  it,  uncle.  Aunt  Rachel  has  already 
received  hers,"  said  Polly  merrily,  while  Colonel  Paisly, 
looking  ruefully  at  Joel  Sowell,  exclaimed,  "We  are 
left  in  the  cold,  Joel;  there  don't  seem  to  be  kisses 
enough  to  go  around." 

Polly  blushingly  replied,  "A  kiss.  Colonel,  is  spon- 
taneous combustion,  occasioned  by  the  contact  of  certain 
subtle  currents  in  human  nature.  No  contact^  no  com- 
bustion; no  combustion,  no  kiss/* 

"Ah,  that  is  very  clear  to  the  man  in  the  moon.  Miss 
Polly  Rutherford,  but  Joel  and  I  are  not  responsible 
for  the  no  contact;  we  must  only  hope  for  a  favorable 
change  in  the  subtle  currents." 

It  was  a  joyous  Christmas,  notwithstanding  the 
stormv  weather,  for  the  inmates  of  the  Caldwell  home 
were  congenial,  and  their  host  and  hostess  enjoyed 
having  them  fully  as  much  as  they  did  the  social  com- 
mingling from  day  to  day.  The  forenoon  of  the  day 
after  Christmas  brought  them  first  a  few  glimpses  of 
sunshine  and  then  the  winds  bore  away  the  dark  clouds 
on  their  wings,  and  revealed  the  blue  sky  in  all  its 
gorgeous  beauty  and  the  bright  shining  of  a  brilliant 
sun.  One  of  the  first  signs  of  life  on  the  highways 
was  the  arrival  of  Holiday  with  a  message  from  Aunt 
Patsy  Gordon.  Poking  his  head  in  at  the  kitchen  door, 
Holiday  asked  Ben,  who  was  patiently  waiting  on  the 
cook  for  his  dinner,  "Whar  Miss  Rachel?  I  got  busi- 
ness wid  her." 

"Miss  Rachel?  She  in  de  house  wbar  she  b'long;  go 
'long  to  de  back  door,  nigger,  an'  't©nd  to  yo'  business." 

Holiday,    thus    directed,   gave    a    knock   at   the   door 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE    END       275 

leading  into  the  house  from  the  back  porch,  and  it  so 
happened  that  his  summons  was  answered  by  Aunt 
Rachel  in  person. 

"How  are  you,  Holiday,  and  how  are  all  at  Sister 
Gordon's?"  asked  Mrs.  Caldwell. 

"Sarvent,  Miss  Rachel;  we  is  all  well,  marm,  but  de 
house  is  full  clean  up  to  de  top,  marm.  Miss  Patsy 
sont  me  over,  marm,  she  did,  to  tell  you  all  to  be  sure 
and  come  over  dar  to  spend  de  day  and  night  on  New 
Year's." 

"I  thought  you  said  the  house  was  full  to  the  top 
now.  Holiday?'* 

"Oh,  dat  don't  mek  no  diffunce,  marm;  some  of  dem 
solgers  leaves  to-morrow,  and  Miss  Patsy  always  got 
plenty  room." 

"How  are  the  roads.  Holiday?  Do  you  think  we 
could  reach  Sister  Patsy's  with  four  horses  hitched  to 
a  sled?" 

"Yars,  marm,  easy  'nough  even  now;  but  by  New 
Year's  eve  de  travelin'  twixt  here  and  dar  will  be 
good." 

"Very  well.  Holiday;  tell  Sister  Patsy  we  will  all 
try  and  get  there  by  New  Year's  eve.  Now  go  to  the 
kitchen  and  Phillis  will  give  you  something  to  eat  be- 
fore you  start  back." 

"Yars,  marm;  thanky,  marm." 

The  following  day  was  a  busy  one  with  the  men 
folk  at  the  parsonage.  Colonel  Paisly,  Joel,  and  Daddy 
Scurlock,  taking  with  them  two  of  the  negro  men  bear- 
ing axes,  went  into  the  wood,  and  soon  returned  with 
two  long  hickory  saplings.  These  were  fashioned  into 
runners,  the  smaller  ends  being  curved  upward.  Upon 
the  runners  a  frame  and  body  were  constructed  of 
boards,  with  seats  inside  to  hold  nine  people.     A  pole 


276      THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

of  hickory  was  bolted  to  the  frame,  and  on  this  a  double 
tree.  In  the  end  of  the  pole  an  iron  ring  was  secured 
through  which  was  fastened  a  stout  hickory  bar.  This 
bar  was  used  for  both  fastening  the  tug  straps  and  as 
a  single  tree  to  which  might  be  hitched  other  horses. 
The  bottom  of  the  sleigh  was  covered  with  a  goodly 
supply  of  dry  meadow  grass,  and,  before  nightfall. 
Doctor  Caldwell,  in  admiring  the  work  of  his  guests, 
pronounced  the  sleigh  quite  a  luxurious  nine-passenger 
coach. 

"Soon  I  shall  undertake  the  building  of  a  smaller 
sleigh  for  two  horses,  for  that  will  be  our  easiest  way 
to  journey  home,"   said  Daddy  Scurlock. 

"A  very  good  idea,  Mr.  Scurlock,"  said  the  colonel. 
"Joel  and  I  will  help  you,  and,  as  there  will  be  plenty 
of  horses  in  the  party,  the  only  trouble  will  be  to  im- 
provise harness." 

"Collars  and  harness  are  the  principal  needs.  Colonel. 
Give  me  plenty  of  rope  and  I  will  soon  manufacture 
harness  that  would  last  from  here  to  Georgy,"  was 
Daddy  Scurlock's  answer. 

"I  can  supply  the  hames,  and  my  man  Ben  can  make 
you  as  good  collars  from  shucks  as  you  will  need. 
Brother  Scurlock;  he  makes  all  my  plow  collars  and 
harness."  Thus  did  Doctor  Caldwell  and  his  visitors 
discuss  ways  and  means,  all  displaying  no  little  mechan- 
ical skill  in  devising  some  sensible  article  or  substitute 
for  some  pressing  need,  showing  that  each  one  was 
prepared  in  some  degree  to  deal  with  that  knotty  prob- 
lem called  the  future. 

The  open,  sunshiny  weather  continued  through  the 
remainder  of  Christmas  week,  and  the  morning  of  New 
Year's  eve  dawned  clear  and  very  cold;  the  frozen 
surface  of  snow  being  hard  and  smooth  as   a  polished 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE    END       277 

mirror.  After  breakfast  the  Caldwells  and  their  guests 
began  their  preparations  for  the  drive  to  the  Gordons. 
Ben  was  a  famous  driver^  and  Doctor  Caldwell  always 
deferred  to  his  opinion  in  matters  pertaining  to  horse- 
flesh. 

'Tick  out  your  team,  Ben,"  said  the  doctor.  "There 
is  my  mare  and  Mr.  Scurlock's ;  they  would  pull  well 
together,  and  you  can  choose  leaders  from  the  other 
horses  you  know  best,  Ben." 

"Well,  sah,  for  de  leaders  I  shall  take  Mister  SowelFs 
boss,  and  Mars  John  Paisly's  big  black." 

"Are  you  not  afraid  to  trust  the  big  black,  Ben?" 

"No,  sah;  he  is  a  knowledgable  boss,  sah;  full  of 
sperit,  but  he  will  mind  when  you  speak  to  him;  ain't 
dat  so.  Mars   John.^" 

"That  is  so,  Ben;  I  see  you  know  something  about 
the  character  of  horses." 

"I  been  studyin'  'em  all  my  life,  sah,  and  dey  don't 
fool  me  often.  You  all  go  and  git  ready,  I  will  be 
all  hitched  in  no  time,  and  den  dese  bosses  will  want 
to  be  leavin'  here." 

The  whole  company  soon  made  their  appearance 
wrapped  in  warm  woolens,  and  bearing  blankets,  while 
a  tidy  little  housemaid  brought  in  her  arms  four  hot 
bricks  wrapped  in  flannel.  Mrs.  Caldwell,  the  doctor, 
and  Polly  Rutherford  took  the  back  seat;  Daddy  Scur- 
lock,  the  colonel  and  Sowell  the  one  next,  while  Ben 
had  the  front  seat  all  to  himself;  he  needed  a  good 
deal  of  elbow  room  in  the  manipulation  of  his  spirited 
team.  The  eager  leaders  felt  the  cold  morning  air,  and 
were  no  sooner  given  their  heads  than  with  a  bound 
they  were  o&  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow.  The  mares 
were  steady  goers  and  could  be  relied  on  to  hold  in 
check  the  spirited  leaders,  and  still  the  speed  was  much 


278      THE  MASTER    OF   THE   RED  BUCK 

too  great  to  coincide  with  Doctor  Caldwell's  idea  of 
safety.  "Ben,  Ben,  check  them;  we  are  going  much  too 
fast,  and  should  anything  give  way  someone  would  be 
hurt." 

"It's  all  right.  Master  David;  when  we  gits  to  dat 
long  hill  yonder,  I  will  make  dem  go  up  faster  dan  dey 
wants  to,  and  when  I  git  ready  for  dem  to  go  slow,  dey 
will  be  willin'."  So  the  sleigh  darted  over  the  smooth 
icy  surface  at  a  speed  almost  rivaling  what  steam  and 
electricity  have  achieved  in  later  times.  The  younger 
folk  enjoyed  it  all,  while  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Caldwell 
and  Daddy  Scurlock  would  sometimes  catch  their 
breath,  exclaiming,  "Oh;  amazing;  prodigious!"  Ben 
had  not  driven  his  four  in  hand  more  than  two  miles 
before  the  frisky  leaders  had  toned  down,  and  were  now 
dashing  along  with  heads  erect,  nostrils  dilating  and 
smoking,  but  obeying  every  command  that  Ben  uttered 
with  the  fidelity  of  soldiers. 

"Ben  has  wonderful  skill  with  horses.  Doctor  Cald- 
well; I  have  some  colts  I  should  like  him  to  break  for 
me,"  said  Colonel  Paisly. 

"Send  them  over,"  said  the  doctor;  "Ben  is  never 
better  pleased  than  when  handling  young  stock,  and 
my  neighbors  keep  him  quite  busy  when  he  is  not  occu- 
pied in  farm  work.  I  like  to  help  my  neighbors  in  that 
way." 

"And  in  many  other  ways,  my  dear  uncle;  I  know 
not  what  this  neighborhood  would  do  without  you,"  said 
Polly  Rutherford  as  she  glanced  brightly  up  into  the 
dear  old  parson's  face. 

"Go  on  doing  as  I  have  told  them,  I  hope,  my  darling 
Polly,"  the  parson  replied  with  a  quaint  smile,  then 
added,  "Men  have  lived  to  little  purpose  who  do  not 
find  some  imitators  in  perpetuating  their  best  qualities. 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE   END        279 

But,  just  look,  we  are  approaching  Rafe  Gordon's;  how 
long  have  we  been  coming,  John  Paisly?" 

"Just  twenty  minutes,  Doctor;  we  have  had  a  de- 
lightful drive,  and  cold  as  it  is  I  believe  we  are  all 
comfortable." 

On  the  front  porch  at  the  Gordons  stood  Uncle  Rafe, 
Aunt  Patsy,  and  Charley  Sheering,  besides  a  squad  of 
five  of  the  troop,  and  the  sleigh  and  its  occupants  re- 
ceived hearty  cheers  and  greetings. 

"Bless  my  life;  why.  Parson,  you  are  a  putting  on 
style,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Rafe.  "Get  out,  every  one  of 
you,  and  get  to  the  fire,  and  Ben  will  take  that  wonder- 
ful rig  around  to  the  barn." 

"Are  you  not  nearly  frozen.  Sister  Caldwell?"  asked 
Aunt  Patsy,  as  she  greeted  Mrs.  Caldwell  and  Polly. 

"Nay,  Patsy;  Ben  did  not  give  us  time  to  get  cold, 
we  came  here  in  twenty  minutes." 

"The  speed  was  something  like  what  I  imagine  flying 
would  be.  Aunt  Patsy;  it  was  so  exhilarating,  I  enjoyed 
it,"  said  Pollv. 

"I'll  be  bound  for  your  young  blood;  but  Polly,  child, 
is  not  this  your  father?"  asked  Aunt  Patsy. 

"Oh,  yes.  Aunt  Patsy,  this  is  daddy,  my  daddy." 

"I  am  glad  indeed  to  meet  you  again,  Mr,  Scurlock, 
and  to  welcome  you  to  our  home.  Have  you  shaken 
hands  with  Rafe?  Rafe,  here  is  Amen  Scurlock."  The 
greetings  between  these  old  friends  were  warm  and 
tender,  bringing  up  many  a  hallowed  memory,  then 
Daddy  Scurlock  threw  his  arm  over  Charley  Sheering's 
shoulder,  and,  gripping  his  hand,  said,  "God  has  brought 
ye  back  safe,  Charley;  and  Hannah  and  the  children 
are  anxiously  waitin'  for  ye." 

"And  I   shall   hasten  to  them,  Daddy  Scurlock,  the 


280  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

earliest  day  we  can  travel;  when  are  you  going  to  start 
for  Brush  Creek?" 

"Just  as  soon,  Charley,  as  the  roads  are  traveled  and 
smoothed  down  a  bit.  We  must  all  go  together  and 
make  it  a  pleasant  homecoming,  but  thar's  one  gone  I'll 
miss  to  my  dyin'  day,  Charley,  poor  Luke";  and  Amen 
Scurlock's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  he  tenderly  called 
Luke's  name,  while  Charley  in  low  tones  spoke  com- 
fortingly to  the  old  man  of  their  mutual  love  and  sorrow. 

The  visit  to  Rafe  Gordon's  was  one  long  cherished, 
and  was  among  the  sweet  memories  of  their  social  life, 
that  all  who  were  there  delighted  in  recalling  in  after 
years.  The  day  for  Polly  Rutherford's  departure  for 
home  came  all  too  soon  for  Doctor  Caldwell  and  Aunt 
Rachel,  for  they  loved  the  dear  girl  whose  sweet  voice 
and  winning  grace  had,  like  the  clinging  tendrils  of  a 
vine,  entwined  about  their  hearts.  At  morning  prayers, 
on  the  day  of  departure,  the  dear  old  parson's  voice 
trembled  as  he  committed  the  dear  ones  departing  to 
the  tender  care  of  the  all-loving  Father,  and  Aunt 
Rachel  and  Polly  Rutherford  both  wept  at  the  part- 
ing moment.  Aunt  Rachel  saying  gently,  "God  be  with 
my  child,  my  beloved  Polly,  and  give  thee  back  to  us 
some  day." 

"Farewell,  dearest  Aunt  Rachel;  your  Polly  will 
never  forget  the  loving  care  you  and  Uncle  Caldwell 
have  so  richly  bestowed.     May  God  bless  you  both." 

Packed  snugly  into  a  tidy  boxsleigh,  their  feet  well 
protected  by  blankets,  and  the  never-forgotten  hot 
bricks,  Amen  Scurlock  and  Polly  Rutherford  were  soon 
skimming  over  the  frozen  roads,  drawn  by  Scurlock's 
mare  and  Joel  Sowell's  horse,  and  driven  by  the  skillful 
hands  of  Colonel  Paisly.  Joel  rode  Paisly's  black 
charger,  and  led  Dapple,  he  and  Charley  Sheering  with 


THE   BEGINNING   OF    THE    END        281 

the  other  boys  from  Brush  Creek  neighborhood  follow- 
ing as  rapidly  as  they  could  the  steady,  swift  move- 
ments of  the  sleigh.  The  journey  was  made  in  less 
than  three  days,  the  hard  freezing  weather  proving 
favorable  by  keeping  the  roads  firm;  and  noon  of  the 
third  day  brought  the  whole  party  in  sight  of  the  old 
homestead  at  Skin  Quarter. 

"Now,"  said  Daddy  Scurlock,  "every  man  of  you 
come  in  and  spend  the  night;  no  use  to  go  further  for 
bite  and  sup." 

"All  but  me.  Daddy  Scurlock;  a  log  chain  wouldn't 
hold  me,  when  Charley  Sheering  is  this  close  to  Han- 
nah and  the  children." 

"I  can't  blame  ye,  Charley;  I  can't  blame  ye;  but 
stop  by  and  speak  to  Mandy  and  Roxy." 

"I  don't  mind  doin'  that.  Daddy  Scurlock,  and  it's 
likely  we'll  find  Doctor  Tony  at  Skin  Quarter;  yonder's 
Old  Blaze,  by  hoky."  Sure  enough  there  was  Old 
Blaze  standing  patiently  at  the  horse-rack,  and  from 
the  tracks  of  his  feet  in  the  snow  he  could  not  have 
been  long  there.  Around  the  ingle  in  Aunt  Mandy's 
room  she  sat,  holding  Master  Tony  Scurlock,  while 
Roxy  was  busy  with  the  winding  blades,  hanking  some 
blue  yarn.  In  Amen's  seat.  Doctor  Tony  sat  smoking, 
while  he  gave  the  women  folk  the  neighborhood  gossip 
of  the  day. 

"Daggoned  if  the  war  ain't  about  over.  Aunt  Mandy; 
Tim  tells  me  the  jig  is  up,  and  the  next  thing  we  know 
General  Washington  will  march  into  New  York,  the 
bands  playin'  Yankee  Doodle,  and  the  redcoats  will  sail 
out'n  the  Bay.  Tim  keeps  well  posted,  and  says  Fan- 
nin' is  gettin'  afeard  to  meddle  with  Brush  Creek  folk. 
Next  thing  he'll  scoot  out  o'  the  country  or  stretch 
hemp.' 


»> 


282  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"The  devil  go  with  him  and  peace  stay  behind  him,** 
exclaimed  Aunt  Mandy.  Then  she  changed  the  subject, 
saying,  "How's  Cynthy  a  gettin'  on  up  at  Hardscrabble, 
Doctor  Tony,  in  all  this  hard  winter  weather?** 

"First  rate,  Aunt  Mandy;  Cynthy  is  one  of  the  folks 
that  is  always  ready  for  hard  times;  she  was  born 
ready.  Plenty  of  wood  under  shelter,  good  fires;  why 
that  little  darkie  o'  her'n  nearly  roasts  me  out  some- 
times, the  way  she  piles  on  lightwood.  Everything 
about  the  house  is  as  clean  as  a  threshin*  floor,  and  I 
hain't  seen  a  rat  for  I  can't  tell  ye  when.  I  think 
Hardscrabble  is  now  just  about  the  center  of  the 
promised  land,  for  I  have  plenty  of  milk  and  honey.'* 

"How  does  old  Tim  Shaw  like  the  change.  Doctor 
Tony.?'* 

"Oh,  fine;  Tim  rents  the  Cross  Roads  out  for  twenty 
pounds,  ten  shillin's;  I  have  built  him  a  tidy  shop  just 
above  my  house  with  a  good  sleepin'  room  in  it,  and 
he  gets  enough  to  do  to  keep  him  full  pocketed.  He 
seems  tickled  to  death  to  see  how  Cynthy  loves  me,  and 
waits  on  both  of  us,  and  says  she's  a  daggoned  sight 
more  lovin'  and  handy  gal  since  she  was  married  than 
she  was  before.  Cynthy  is  a  God  a'mighty's  blessing, 
as  sure  as  you  live,  Aunt  Mandy." 

"Tell  me  something  I  didn't  know.  Doctor  Tony; 
hadn't  been  for  me  you  never  would  'a'  had  Cynthy." 

"That's  so.  Aunt  Mandy,  but  while  we  are  a  talkin* 
here,  *pears  to  me  like  there's  a  mighty  conbobblement 
outside;  I  hear  old  Blaze  a  whinnyin'  powerful." 

"There  certainly  is  somebody  at  the  horse-rack,  Doctor 
Tony,  so  we  will  go  and  see  about  it." 

"Bless  my  soul  and  body.  Aunt  Mandy;  if  yonder 
ain't  the  whole  shootin'  match;  Daddy  Scurlock,  Polly 
Rutherford,  Joel  Sowell,  Charley  Sheering,  and  Colonel 


THE   BEGINNING    OF    THE    END        283 

Paisly.  Hallelujah!"  and  Doctor  Tony  hurried  toward 
the  gate  between  a  skip  and  a  run.  He  was  followed 
by  Aunt  Mandy,,  and  Roxy  with  baby  Tony  in  her  arms 
soon  caught  up  with  them.  Daggoned  if  this  ain't  equal 
to  a  GeoTgy  Campmeetin'.  Howdy,  Daddy  Scurlock, 
Joel,  Charley,  Colonel  Paisly,  and  howdy,  Polly  Ruther- 
ford, when  I  git  a  chance  at  her." 

Meanwhile  Aunt  Mandy  had  caught  Polly  in  her 
arms,  and,  kissing  her  between  every  word,  kept  ex- 
claiming, "My  blessed  child;  I  feared  you  were  never 
coming  home  again." 

"Stop,  Aunt  Mandy,  and  kiss  Daddy  Scurlock  awhile; 
we  want  a  chance  at  Polly,"  said  Doctor  Tony. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  my  old  man,  too,"  said  Aunt 
Mandy,  "and  to  see  all  these  dear  soldier  boys  safely 
back  from  the  war,"  and  Aunt  Mandy  gave  a  kiss  of 
welcome  to  Joel,  Charley  Sheering,  and  the  colonel, 
saying,  "I  make  no  difference,  for  you  are  all  my  boys." 

The  meeting  between  Joel  Sowell  and  his  wife  and 
baby  was  touching;  the  strong  man  wept  for  joy,  and 
Roxy  clung  to  him  as  if  fearing  he  might  again  be 
ordered  away,  while  baby  babbled  and  cooed  with 
delight. 

"Come  right  into  the  house,  all  of  you;  it's  cold 
enough  to  freeze  folk,"  exclaimed  Daddy  Scurlock. 
*'I  hope  ye  have  good  fires,  Mandy." 

"Yea,  everything  is  warm,  and  a  warm  welcome  along 
with  it,  old  man;  I'll  call  Scipio  to  take  the  horses.'* 

"Just  get  Scipio  to  leave  my  horse  in  the  barn  shed, 
Daddy  Scurlock;  the  sun  is  getting  over  to  the  west, 
and  I  must  soon  be  going,"  said  Charley  Sheering. 

"Four  o'clock  will  be  time  enough  for  you  to  leave, 
Charley;  you  can  then  easily  reach  Corneal  Tyson's  a 
leetle  after   dark/'   said  Daddy  Scurlock.     "You  must 


^84  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

have  bite  and  sup  with  us;  indeed  you  must_,  although 
I  know  your  heart  is  hungry  to  see  Hannah  and  the 
chicks." 

"I  will  bide  until  four,  Daddy  Scurlock;  it  will  be 
a  great  pleasure  to  a  half-starved  soldier  to  eat  once 
more  a  dinner  of  Aunt  Mandy's  ordering  and  old 
Anachy's  cooking;  you  see  I  have  a  long  memory  for 
old  times." 

"Mandy  will  be  sure  to  have  enough  for  us  all, 
Charley,  and  she  loves  to  see  a  good  trencher  man." 

Gathered  about  the  best  room  fire,  its  blaze  sending 
out  a  glowing  warmth,  this  group  of  friends  and  neigh- 
bors were  soon  engaged  in  social  chat;  but  Aunt  Mandy 
and  Roxy  soon  left  Polly  Rutherford  and  Master  Tony 
Scurlock  to  entertain  the  gentlemen,  while  they  pro- 
ceeded to  hasten  the  dinner.  Master  Tony  had  fallen 
quite  in  love  with  Polly,  and  no  place  suited  him  quite 
so  well  as  in  her  arms;  so  while  she  talked,  she  also 
played  nurse  in  a  very  graceful  and  acceptable  man- 
ner. Colonel  Paisly,  as  he  watched  the  scene,  thought 
he  had  never  seen  Polly  Rutherford  looking  so  winsome 
and  so  unconsciously  lovely. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  WHITE  DOVE  OP  PEACE  AND  THE  ODOR 
OF  ORANGE  BLOSSOMS 

*'Why,  Aunt  Mandv/'  exclaimed  Charley  Sheering, 
as  they  entered  the  warm  kitchen  in  which  the  table  was 
spread,  "y^u  must  have  expected  the  whole  troop;  here 
are  rations  enough  for  the  whole  of  *em." 

"I  never  do  anything  by  halves,  Charley  Sheering; 
old  Anachy  has  been  cooking  for  a  week  past,  and  when 
I  would  ask  her  sometimes  if  she  was  not  getting  ready 
too  soon,  she  would  only  shake  her  grizzled  head  and 
say,  'Gwyne  git  ready;  Mars  Amen  an'  my  lamb  (my 
lamb  is  Polly  Rutherford),  an*  all  dem  hongry  boys 
be  here  some  day  'fore  you  know  it/  and  sure  enough 
Anachy  was  right." 

**It's  an  honest  fact;  here  are  more  rations,  Aunt 
Mandy,  than  we  would  sometimes  see  for  a  whole  week 
about  Yorktown,  isn't  that  so.  Colonel?" 

"  'Tis  true  indeed,  Charley,  and  the  very  thought  of 
the  abundance  at  Skin  Quarter  and  Uncle  Gordon's 
would  make  me  so  hungry  sometimes  I  could  have  eaten 
broiled  rat." 

*'0h,  horrors!  was  it  as  bad  as  that.^"  exclaimed 
Polly  Rutherford,  with  a  shudder. 

**Worse,  Miss  Polly,"  said  Charley.  "I  have  eaten 
rat  and  so  has  Joel^  and  it  wasn't  so  bad  when  a  fellow 
got  hungry." 

285 


286  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED   BUCK 

"Oh,  Joel,  you  didn't  eat  rat?'*  was  Roxy's  pathetic 
exclamation  and  question. 

"I  just  did,  Roxy,  and  about  the  camps  of  the  French 
soldiers  a  rat  stood  no  more  chance  for  his  life  than  a 
rabbit  or  a  ground  hog." 

"Well,  hush  all  that  claver  about  your  starvations, 
boys,  and  let  me  see  if  you  have  forgotten  how  to  eat 
roast  turkey,  and  old  North  Carolina  ham,"  said  Aimt 
Mandy. 

"We  don't  need  any  persuasion.  Aunt  Mandy,"  re- 
plied the  colonel. 

"One  of  the  most  comforting  things  to  me  in  the 
return  of  peace,"  said  Daddy  Scurlock,  "is  that  all  this 
killing,  privation,  starvation,  and  burning  and  destroy- 
ing of  property  is  about  over.  Now  we  can  go  to  work 
mending  our  fences,  tilling  our  fields,  adding  comforts 
to  our  homes.  Oh,  we  have  much  to  thank  God  for, 
and  if  we  don't  serve  Him  better  now  we  will  be  a  very 
ungrateful  people." 

"That  is  very  true,  Mr.  Scurlock;  I  feel  that  every 
true  citizen  has  a  full  share  according  to  his  ability  in 
rebuilding  our  waste  places,  and  in  making  our  Carolina 
a  worthy  commonwealth  to  dwell  in,"  said  Colonel 
Paisly. 

"That's  worthily  said.  Colonel,  and  I'm  goin*  to  do 
Tony  Sidebottom's  sheer,  and  thar  ain't  but  one  thing 
you  lack  to  take  your  place  in  the  front  rank  of  the 
leaders." 

"And  pray  what  is  that.  Doctor  Tony?" 

"Why  you  ought  to  go  right  ahead  and  git  you  a 
wife;  no  man  is  fittin'  to  lead  other  folks  untwill  some 
good  woman  takes  him  by  the  ear." 

There  was  much  laughter  provoked  by  Doctor  Tony's 
advice  to  the  colonel,  and  as  soon  as  Aunt  Mandy  could 


THE    WHITE    DOVE    OF   PEACE         287 

control  her  risibles,  she  exclaimed,  "Now  just  listen  to 
Doctor  Tony;  one  would  think  he  had  been  married 
fifty  years,  whereas  his  new  condition  is  only  a  few 
months  old.  Now  he  wants  every  man  and  woman  on 
earth  to  marry." 

"That  I  do,  Aimt  Mandy;  no  man  will  ever  reach 
the  promised  land  in  this  world  untwill  he  does  marry; 
a  man  by  himself,  excuse  me.  Colonel,  I  was  once  so 
myself,  is  not  much  better  than  a  mangy  dog." 

"I  excuse  you.  Doctor  Tony,  and  have  long  felt  just 
as  you  do.  Being  classed  with  the  dogs  is  not  my 
choice,  but  my  misfortune,  and  I  shall  certainly  try 
some  day  to  find  the  road  to  the  promised  land." 

Polly  had  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation  since 
Doctor  Tony  had  changed  the  trend  of  it,  and  as  Colonel 
Paisly  pronounced  so  earnestly  his  resolve  to  seek  the 
promised  land,  she  felt  the  blood  tingling  in  her  cheeks, 
her  ears  were  as  pink  as  a  pink,  and  she  sincerely  re- 
joiced that  just  then  the  gentlemen  arose  from  the  table 
and  sought  the  best  room. 

"They  were  getting  pretty  close  to  you,  Polly,  dear," 
said  Roxy.  "I  saw  you  blushing  and  wished  you  well 
out  of  it." 

"Oh,  nonsense,  Roxy;  my  blushes  are  chronic." 
"Were  you  surprised,  my  child,  that  Colonel  Paisljr 

came  home  with  you.?"  asked  Aunt  Mandy. 

"No,   mammy,   because   I   knew  he   was   coming;   he 

told    me    he    should    come,    and    I    could    not    say    he 

shouldn't." 

"Did  you  want  to  say  he  shouldn't,  girlie?"  ques- 
tioned Roxy,  provokingly. 

"I  suggested  that  his  escort  was  not  needed,  but  he 
did  not  seem  to  think  so,  and  if  it  was  any  pleasure 


288  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

to  him  to  take  that  long  ride  in  the  cold,  why  do  let 
the  man  enjoy  it,  Roxy." 

"Oh,  certainly,  he  is  going  to  enjoy  it." 

"Roxy,  you  are  so  provoking;  I  must  go  and  fix  my 
hair,  it  is  a  perfect  sight,"  and  Polly  Rutherford  re- 
treated to  her  own  room  all  tidily  arranged  to  receive 
her,  and  took  a  look  at  her  flushed  face  in  her  own 
little  mirror. 

"What  do  you  think  of  it,  Roxy?'*  asked  Aunt  Mandy, 
as  Polly  Rutherford's  receding  form  passed  out  of  the 
cookroom  door. 

"What  do  I  think  of  it?  Why,  it's  as  plain  as  a 
printed  book  that  Colonel  Paisly  loves  Polly,  Aunt 
Mandy,  and  when  he  thinks  the  proper  time  has  come 
he  will  speak  his  mind." 

"Poor  Luke!"  and  Aunt  Mandy's  eyes  filled  with 
tears  as  she  further  said,  "He  was  so  loving,  so  true, 
so  dependable;  Colonel  Paisly  ought  to  be  walking  deli- 
cately if  he  ever  hopes  to  stand  in  Luke's  place,"  and 
Aunt  Mandy  said  no  more  about  it  just  then. 

Four  o'clock  came  and  Charley  Sheering  arose  from 
the  genial  circle,  saying,  "Time's  up.  Daddy  Scurlock; 
I  must  be  off." 

"Going  to  Corneal  Tyson's  to-night,  Charley?"  asked 
Doctor  Tony. 

"That  I  am.  Doctor  Tony." 

"That  bein'  so,  guess  I'll  ride  with  ye  as  far  as 
Hardscrabble,  for  Cynthy  will  be  lookin'  for  me,"  and 
soon  the  two  were  jogging  along  the  road  together, 
chatting  of  the  past,  present  and  future. 

"Charley,"  said  Doctor  Tony,  after  they  had  brought 
their  talk  down  to  the  troop,  "Charley,  don't  ye  think 
the  Colonel  is  hard  after  poor  Luke's  gal?" 

"Indeed  I  do.  Doctor  Tony;   and   if  he  makes  the 


THE    WHITE    DOVE    OF   PEACE         289 

right  moves  he  will  get  her.  'Twon't  do  to  crowd  things, 
and  maybe  'twould  ha'  been  better  for  him  had  he  not 
have  come  home  with  her." 

"Paisly  is  a  wise  man,  Charley,  and  he  knows  the 
ways  o'  women  amazin'  much.  I'll  bet  he  don't  say  a 
word  o'  love  to  Polly  Rutherford  while  he's  at  Skin 
Quarter,  but  will  help  her  do  the  mournin'  for  poor 
Luke.  Then  as  time  passes,  and  she  begins  to  depend 
upon  his  visits,  he'll  pop  the  parable;  they  will  be  sure 
to  splice." 

"Well  I  should  be  sorry  for  Polly  Rutherford  to 
leave  Chatham,  Doctor  Tony,  but  she'll  never  do  bet- 
ter than  to  take  Colonel  John  Paisly.  He  is  a  Christian 
soldier,  he  is  a  gentleman,  and  mighty  well  to  do.  He 
has  a  beautiful  plantation  in  Guilford,  besides  his 
mother's  place  that  will  be  his,  and  he  is  full  of 
energy  and  thrift." 

*'I'm  glad  to  hear  that,  Charley;  I  always  thought 
he  was  made  of  the  right  stuff;  but  here  we  are  at 
Hardscrabble.  No  use  to  ask  ye  to  stay  overnight,  but 
wait  a  minute;  I  know  Cynthy  and  Tim  would  like  to 
shake  hands  with  ye.  Hello,  Cynthy,  Tim;  here  is 
Charley  Sheering."  Dr.  Tony's  call  was  answered  by 
the  quick  footsteps  of  Cynthy,  soon  followed  by  the 
more  deliberate  steps  of  her  daddy,  and  both  of  them 
gave  Charley  Sheering  a  hearty  welcome  home,  and 
gladly  heard  the  news  of  the  homecoming  of  Polly 
Rutherford. 

Milder  weather  followed  the  arrival  of  our  travelers 
and  the  thaw  Daddy  Scurlock  had  dreaded  set  in  in 
earnest.  The  roads  became  slushy,  and  the  streams  for 
more  than  a  week  were  past  fording.  So  Colonel 
Paisly's  visit  was  prolonged  beyond  the  time  he  had  pre- 
determined.    He  had  rare  powers  of  entertaining,  and 


290  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

whether  he  was  talking  to  Daddy  Scurlock^  Joel,  Aunt 
Mandy,  Roxy,  or  Polly  Rutherford,  there  was  always 
an  unerring  wisdom  in  the  choice  of  the  subject,  and 
he  succeeded  well  in  drawing  them  out  so  that  they 
bore  their  full  share  in  the  discussion.  He  took  long 
walks  with  Daddy  Scurlock  and  Joel  through  the  Skin 
Quarter  plantation,  suggested  some  improvement  in  the 
hillside  ditches,  and  selected  a  spot  which  he  advised 
Daddy  Scurlock  to  drain  and  convert  into  a  permanent 
meadow.  They  rode  together  over  to  Joel's  desolate 
looking  place,  for  his  home  had  been  burned,  and, 
taking  the  poor  fellow  aside  as  they  were  viewing  the 
gruesome  ruins  left  by  his  enemies,  Paisly  said,  "Joel, 
it  looks  desolate,  I  know;  but  I  shall  help  you.  God 
has  spared  me  a  little  more  than  some  of  my  neigh- 
bors, and  you  must  take  this  fifty  guineas  and  begin  at 
once  to  set  your  house  in  order  anew." 

"Oh,  Colonel,  your  offer  almost  unmans  me;  I  was 
just  thinkin'  that  I  had  no  one  to  turn  to.  Daddy  Scur- 
lock has  done  enough  for  me,  and  he  oughtn't  to  do 
any  more,  and  daddy-in-law  is  not  able  to  help  me." 

"What's  that  you  are  sayin'  about  Daddy  Scurlock, 
Joel.^"  said  the  old  man  who  just  then  returned  from 
surveying  the  ruins. 

"I  was  a  saying  you  hac.  done  quite  enough  for  me, 
Daddy  Scurlock,  in  my  reply  to  a  kind  offer  of  help 
from  the  colonel  here." 

"  'Plow  your  own  heifer,'  Joel  Sowell,  and  let  Amen 
Scurlock  plow  his'n.  I  am  goin'  to  help  you  and  Roxy 
rebuild  as  soon  as  'tis  safe  to  do  so.  Meantime,  you 
will  all  just  stay  on  at  Skin  Quarter;  do  you  hear?" 

"I  hear,  Daddy." 

"Then  mind  the  old  man  and  let  him  have  his  own 
way." 


THE    WHITE    DOVE    OF   PEACE         291 

The  afternoon  before  Colonel  Paisly  was  to  leave  for 
Guilford,  as  he  sat  with  Polly  Rutherford  in  the  best 
room,  he  proposed  that  they  should  take  a  walk  and 
breathe  the  bracing  air.  Polly  soon  joined  him,  and  by 
mutual  consent  their  steps  turned  toward  the  little 
clump  of  cedars  lifting  their  green  heads  above  the 
snowclad  sod,  and  a  walk  of  ten  minutes  brought  them 
to  the  little  picket  fence,  and  soon  they  were  silently 
standing  over  the  white  grave  of  Luke  Stallings.  Col- 
onel Paisly  at  last  broke  the  silence,  saying  in  pathetic 
tones,  "Here  sleeps  my  best  friend,  and  I  promised 
him  in  his  last  moments  to  be  an  unfailing  friend  to 
you,  my  dear  Miss  Polly  Rutherford.  I  claim  the  right 
to  mark  his  resting  place  with  a  memorial  stone,  and 
to  be  your  friend,  my  dear  girl ;  to  shield  you  and  watch 
over  you;  to  shelter  you  from  every  trial  that  man  can 
fend  off.  In  doing  so  I  shall  only  seek  you  when  I 
can  serve  you.  I  shall  never  intrude  upon  the  sacred 
precincts  of  your  great  sorrow  unless  I  can  help  you, 
and  you  shall  choose  the  way  in  which  I  can  best  help 
you.  You  know  I  told  you  I  should  live  for  others, 
just  as  Luke  died  for  others.  His  model  was  the 
Divine  Master  and  ours  should  be  the  same." 

Polly  Rutherford  shaded  her  face  with  her  hand  as 
with  bowed  head  and  tear-filled  eyes  she  listened  to 
the  colonel's  earnest  words,  and  for  a  time  could  find 
no  words  in  which  to  answer  him.  At  last,  in  low  trem- 
bling tones,  she  said,  "My  heart  is  very  sad  and  sore. 
Colonel,  but  I  do  appreciate  your  love  for  Luke,  your 
friendliness  to  me;  and  if  I  can  find  no  words  that  ex- 
press it  I  wish  you  to  feel  that  were  I  in  need  of  a 
friend  I  should  send  for  you.  You  must  pray  for  me, 
and  should  you  be  passing  this  way  in  future  days,  re- 


292  THE  MASTER   OF   THE  RED  BUCK 

member  daddy,  mammy,  and  I  will  be  glad  to  have 
you  at  Skin  Quarter." 

"I  will  ever  pray  for  you;  I  do  thank  you,  dear 
friend,  that  you  accept  my  ojffered  friendship,  and  while 
I  shall,  as  I  said,  not  intrude,  my  trust  received  from 
Luke  will  not  permit  me  to  drift  away  from  you.  May 
I  not  come  at  intervals  and  see  you  and  your  dear 
parents.^   for  they,  too,  are  very  dear  to  me." 

"You  know  best.  Colonel,  how  to  dispose  of  your 
valuable  time,  and  I  know  that  you  will  have  much 
toil  and  care  pressing  upon  your  head  and  heart.  But 
when  you  feel  that  a  ride  across  the  country  and  a 
change  would  benefit  you,  we  will  always  extend  a 
welcome.'* 

"Then  we  understand  each  other,  at  least  in  part. 
Miss  Polly  Rutherford,  and  I  feel  now  glad  that  I 
came  home  with  you.  I  shall  leave  you  on  the  mor- 
row, feeling  privileged  to  come  again  before  the  year 
grows  too  old;  and  may  I  not  sometimes  write.'*  I  love 
to  write  to  my  friends." 

"I  shall  not  deny  you  your  request.  Colonel;  if  you 
will  find  any  recreation  in  epistolizing  one  who  is  a 
poor  correspondent.  I  like  to  get  letters,  I  cannot  say 
I  am  an  adept  at  writing  them." 

"We  shall  see  how  that  is  to  be.  Miss  Polly  Ruther- 
ford; now  give  me  your  hand  on  our  compact.  Re- 
member, you  are  to  let  me  be  your  friend  next  to  your 
dear  parents,  for  you  are  very  dear  to  me."  Polly  laid 
her  trembling  hand  in  his,  and  as  he  tenderly  pressed 
it  he  said,  "You  may  always  command  me  to  do  what 
you  choose,"  and  slowly  they  retraced  their  steps  to 
the  house  and  sought  shelter  in  the  cozy  best  room. 

The  following  morning,  Colonel  Paisly  took  his  de- 
parture, and  he  was  followed  out  to  the  horse-rack  by 


THE    WHITE    DOVE    OF   PEACE         293 

the  entire  household.  His  leavetaking  was  quite  in 
character  with  his  warm  heart  and  polished  manners. 
Shaking  Daddy  Scurlock's  hand  he  thanked  him  for 
much  past  kindness,  while  the  old  gentleman  assured 
him  of  an  ever  hearty  welcome  at  Skin  Quarter.  He 
put  his  arm  around  Joel  Sowell's  shoulder  and  said, 
"Old  comrade,  good-bye;  God  grant  us  many  meet- 
ings." Then,  taking  baby  in  his  arms,  he  kissed  the 
dear  little  fellow's  rosy  lips  many  times,  while  he  bade 
the  young  mother  adieu.  At  last  Aunt  Mandy  came 
forward  and  said,  "God  bless  you,  Colonel,  for  all  you 
did  for  Luke.  Here  is  my  parting  blessing  in  the  kiss 
I  give  you."  Polly  Rutherford  was  the  last  one  of  the 
group  to  receive  the  pressure  of  his  hand,  and  to  catch 
a  tender  light  in  his  farewell  glance,  and  Colonel  Paisly 
mounted  the  black  charger  and  soon  passed  out  of  sight. 

"There  goes  a  knightly  gentleman,  Mandy,"  said 
Daddy  Scurlock,  "and  one  o'  the  smartest  I  ever  talked 
with.  He  is  a  good  farmer,  can  handle  a  saw  and  ham- 
mer with  the  best  of  'em,  and  then  he  knows  all  words; 
can  talk  with  Parson  Caldwell  on  doctrines,  or  plead  a 
law  case." 

"Land  sakes,  old  man;  you  make  out  Colonel  Paisly 
a  second  Moses;  I  know  he's  pretty  smart  and  all  that, 
but  he  certainly  has  got  on  the  blind  side  o'  ye.  What 
do  ye  think  about  it,  Polly?" 

Thus  appealed  to,  Polly,  who  had  been  standing  by, 
gazing  up  the  road  in  the  direction  Colonel  Paisly  was 
last  seen,  replied:  "Colonel  Paisly  is,  as  daddy  says, 
mammy,  a  knightly  gentleman,  and  quite  as  clever  as 
he  has  been  represented  to  be.  Uncle  Caldwell  says 
he  is  one  of  the  brainy  men  of  Guilford." 

"Well,  he's  had  all  sorts  of  chances,  he  ought  to  be. 
A   man    born    rich    and   educated    by    David    Caldwell 


294  THE  MASTER   OF  THE  RED  BUCK 

ought  to  be  somethin'  extraordinary/'  said  Aunt  Mandy, 
as  she  turned  to  go  into  the  house. 

"The  old  lady  feels  sore  about  poor  Luke,  my  darter/' 
said  Daddy  Scurlock,  as  he  put  an  arm  around  Polly 
and  slowly  walked  with  her  toward  the  house.  "She 
feels  as  if  poor  Luke  didn't  have  no  chances,  and  she 
loves  his  memoiy  too  tender  to  see  much  good  in  any 
other  young  man  yet  awhile.  Why  do  you  s'pose 
Colonel  Paisly  came  with  us  home,  Polly,  dear?" 

"Because  he  wanted  to,  I  suppose,  dear  Daddy/*  re- 
plied Polly  with  a  blush. 

"Do  you  think  he  will  be  comin*  ag'in,  Polly?" 

"You  asked  him  to,  did  you  not,  Daddy?" 

"Oh,  yes,  child,  of  course  I  did;  that  was  manners. 
But  did  he  say  anything  to  you  about  comin'  ag'in?" 

"Yes,  he  said  his  friendship  for  us  all  would  not  let 
him  drift  away  from  us,  and  he  asked  if  he  might  not 
come  now  and  then  to  see  us.  I  told  him  yes,  and  I  do 
not  doubt  that  some  day  he  will  come  again." 

"Paisly  is  a  wise  and  good  man,  Polly,  darling;  he 
will  never  do  or  say  anything  that  looks  inconsiderate, 
but  he  will  come  as  nigh  doin'  right  every  time  as  any 
man  I  ever  knew.  Yes,  he  will  always  be  a  welcome 
visitor  at  Skin  Quarter  to  yer  daddy,  my  child." 

This  ended  their  conversation,  but  Polly  understood 
where  Colonel  Paisly  stood  in  the  opinion  of  both  her 
daddy  and  mammy,  but  as  yet  she  gave  them  no  sign 
as  to  his  status  with  her. 

We  now  follow  the  track  of  our  story  to  its  end,  amid 
more  quiet  and  homelike  scenes.  The  master  of  the 
Red  buck  and  the  Bay  doe,  within  a  few  months  after 
the  incidents  last  recorded,  disappeared  from  North 
Carolina,  and,  joining  the  British  army,  finally  drifted 
to    St.    Johns,    New    Brunswick,    and    from    thence    to 


THE    WHITE    DOVE    OF   PEACE         295 

Digby,  Nova  Scotia.  While  he  is  said  to  have  pro- 
fessed conversion  and  joined  the  Presbyterian  church, 
a  nameless  crime  committed  by  him  subsequently  proved 
his  heart  to  be  as  black  in  the  later  years  of  his  career 
as  when  he  was  a  red-handed  Tory,  filling  up  the  bloody 
measure  of  his  crimes  in  North  Carolina;  would  that 
the  waters  of  oblivion  could  wash  out  his  record  or  that 
so  harmful  a  creature  had  never  breathed  the  air  of 
Carolina. 

The  return  of  Colonel  Paisly  to  his  home  was  fol- 
lowed by  months  of  earnest  toil.  Spring  found  him  busy 
supervising  his  mother's  large  estate  as  well  as  his  own 
plantation,  which  fortunately  lay  contiguous  to  it. 
There  were  ditches  to  be  opened,  new  barns  to  be  built, 
fences  to  repair,  while  he  also  established  on  the  pub- 
lic road  leading  toward  Alamance  church  a  blacksmith- 
ing  and  woodworking  shop.  Over  this  establishment 
Mike  Kinsey  was  duly  installed,  and  proved  to  be  a 
faithful  and  efficient  worker,  who  could  ever  after  afford 
to  wear  a  superior  quality  of  number  twelve  shoes. 

Early  June  found  farm  and  shop  work  well  advanced 
at  Blytheside,  as  the  colonel  called  his  home,  and  he 
found  himself  growing  lonely  of  evenings,  especially  as 
his  mother  was  now  spending  a  little  while  at  Sister 
Patsy  Gordon's  and  the  Caldwells.  It  was,  therefore, 
no  surprise  to  his  faithful  servant  Isham  when  he  was 
told  one  night  to  have  the  black  charger  saddled  at 
dawn  the  next  morning,  while  orders  were  issued  to  the 
cook  to  have  breakfast  at  five  o'clock. 

"Hi,  what  de  marter  wid  Mars  John,  Isham?  Whar 
he  gwyin'  now?"  asked  the  old  cook. 

"I   ain't  inquirated,  Betsy,  but  business  look  lak  we  ,^ 
is  gwyin'  ter  have  a  young  mistress  'fore  long;  all  we 
got  to  do  is  follow  the  cunnel." 


296  THE  MASTER   OF   THE   RED   BUCK 

The  second  day  after  the  coloners  departure  from 
Blytheside^  found  Polly  Rutherford  in  a  state  of  ex- 
pectancy, for  she  had  received  a  letter  from  the  colonel 
through  the  medium  of  a  passing  traveler,  in  which  he 
had  named  a  day  in  June  when  she  might  expect  him, 
and  this  was  the  day.  Aunt  Mandy  had  noticed  that 
her  daughter  seemed  "a  little  nervy"  as  she  expressed 
it,  and  proceeded  to  question  her.  "What  are  you  so 
restless  about,  Polly  Rutherford.'*  Why  you  are  just 
a  livin*  on  that  front  porch  to-day,  and  seems  like  you 
can't  sit  still  a  minute." 

"I  am  sure  it  is  too  warm  to  stay  indoors,  mammy; 
the  porch  is  the  coolest  place." 

"Yes,  the  porch  is  the  coolest  place,  but  that  ain't 
your  only  reason;  who  are  you  expecting,  child?" 

"Colonel  Paisly,  mammy." 

"Ah,  ha!  Well  now,  child,  I  hope  you  will  quit 
havin'  the  blue  devils  for  awhile,  and  chirk  up  a  bit. 
I  know  it's  mighty  lonesome  here,  and  I  am  certainly 
glad  the  colonel  is  comin',  for  he  is  real  good  company." 

"Sometimes  I  am  glad  and  then  again  I  have  a  dread 
of  his  coming,  mammy;  we  parted  as  very  good  friends 
when  he  was  last  here,  and  I  know  that  relationship 
will  not  long  satisfy  Colonel  Paisly." 

"Small  blame  to  him  for  that,  child;  Colonel  Paisly 
loves  you,  Polly  Rutherford,  and  he  is  only  waitin'  out 
of  due  respect  to  our  dear  Luke's  memory.  How  do 
you  feel  towards  him,  child?  Are  you  not,  way  down 
in  your  heart,  glad  he  is  comin'?" 

"I  will  admit  that  much,  mammy." 

"And  haven't  you  been  a  mopin'  about  the  house  and 
garden  ever  since  the  first  snow  drops  and  crocuses 
bloomed?" 


THE    WHITE    DOVE    OF   PEACE         297 

"I  fear  I  have,  mammy;  I  am  getting  to  be  a 
nuisance,  and  you  will  be  wanting  to  get  rid  of  me." 

"Never  will  want  to  get  rid  of  ye,  child;  I  came 
nigh  weepin'  my  eyes  out  while  you  was  in  Guilford, 
but  I  know  when  you  give  your  heart  to  John  Paisly 
you  will  follow  him  to  the  world's  end  if  he  goes  thar, 
so  I  must  just  bear  it,  I  s'pose,  like  all  other  mothers." 

"I  am  sure  of  one  thing,  mammy,  and  that  is,  should 
I  ever  accept  John  Paisly,  providing  he  should  ever 
ask  me,  you  will  be  a  more  loving  mother-in-law  than 
the  average,  for  he  has  a  way  of  just  making  people 
love  him." 

"No  doubt  you  think  that  last,  child;  we  shall  see. 
I  didn't  say  I  didn't  love  him  now,  and  seems  to  me 
you  have  put  in  more  if's  and  whereas's  than  are  at  all 
needful  to  the  circumstances." 

"There  is  an  odor  of  orange  blossoms  about  Skin 
Quarter,  and  I  am  expecting  a  visit  from  Doctor  David 
Caldwell  sometime  before  frost,  so  give  me  a  kiss,  Polly, 
and  may  the   good  Lord  bless   you,  my  child." 

It  was  more  than  an  hour  before  sunset  when  the 
black  charger  reached  the  home  of  Polly  Rutherford, 
and  John  Paisly  received  such  a  welcome  as  filled  his 
heart  with  a  bright  and  expectant  hope;  and  his  dreams 
that  night  were  more  than  realised  in  after  days. 


THE    END 


ISTINCTIVE 
IXIE   BOOKS 


FROM  A   LITERARY  STANDPOINT 

Each  one  of  these  publications  has  high 
merit.  Mechanically  they  represent  the  high- 
est achievements  in  the  art  of  book-making, 
easily  ranking  with  the  choicest  production 
of  the  oldest  and  best  known  publishers  in 
America,  and  they  present  both  in  text  and 
illustrations  as  do  no  other  publications  of 
their  class,  the  thought  and  life  of 

"THE  REAL  SOUTH" 


STONE  PUBLISHING  CO. 

CHARLOTTE,  N.  C. 


IDLE  COMMENTS 

By  Isaac  Erwin  Avery,  edited  by  Prof.  Edwin  Mims,  late 
of  Trinity  College,  and  University  North  Carolina,  now  of 
Vanderbilt.  New  edition  with  a  dedication  to  the  late 
Joseph  Pearson  Caldwell,  by  Wade  H.  Harris,  editor  Char- 
lotte Observer.  The  plates  of  the  book  are  the  property  of 
Trinity  College  and  all  royalties  from  its  sale  go  to  the 
Erwin  Avery  Scholarship  Fund  of  Trinity  College. 

Cloth:  $1.50  net;  postpaid  $1.62.  Special  Gift  Edition. 
Green  Ooze  Calf— bound  "Roycroftie,"  $2.50. 

BOOK  NOTICES 

"Idle  Comments." — In  a  former  issue  we  had  a  brief  no- 
tice of  this  delightful  book,  which  we  wish  now  to  notice 
more  fully. 

These  papers  came  out  at  different  intervals  in  the  Char- 
lotte Observer,  and  when  they  fa'st  appeared,  the  reading 
public  realized  that  a  new  star  had  appeared  upon  the  hori- 
zon, though  we  all  realized  also  that  no  one  could  get  a 
proper  idea  of  the  writer  from  these  occasional  articles. 

However,  even  with  these  disadvantages,  the  articles 
were  read  with  eagerness  and  quoted  with  delight. 

Now  that  they  are  before  us  in  book  form,  we  are  really 
astonished  at  their  cumulative  power  over  us. 

There  is  nothing  in  American  prose  that  can  excel  them. 
They  range  from  frolic  to  the  severest  morality,  and 
through  them  all  there  runs  a  vein  of  pathos  that  touches 
the  tenderest  part  of  our  natures. 

His  heart  seems  peculiarly  susceptible  to  the  tragedy  of 
the  fallen  women,  which  is  seen  in  the  article  of  the  Girl 
with  a  white  dress,  or  the  death  in  Springs  Alley. 

Mr.  Avery  did  not  live  long  enough  to  prove  whether  he 
could  write  anything  more  ambitious  than  these  fugitive 
pieces,  but  we  believe  that  the  man  who  could  write  as  he 
did,  day  after  day,  was  capable  of  anything  in  the  line  of 
literature. 

North  Carolina  has  reason  to  be  proud  of  her  literary 
children,  and  among  them  she  rightly  places  Erwin  Avery 
at  the  head. 

We  are  indebted  to  the  Stone  Company  of  Charlotte  for 


the  beautiful  new  edition  of  "Idle  Comments"  by  I.  E. 
Avery..  The  book  is  dedicated  to  Joseph  Pearson  Caldwell, 
the  greatest  editor  North  Carolina  has  produced,  and  the 
prefatory  note  is  written  by  Wade  H.  Harris,  the  present 
editor  of  the  Charlotte  Observer.  Avery  occupies  a  unique 
position  among  our  North  Carolina  men  of  letters.  This 
book,  which  embraces  the  cream  of  his  writings,  is  fresh, 
natural  and  wholesome,  and  the  Stone  Company  have  done 
a  great  service  in  bringing  it  out  in  this  very  attractive 
form. 

"Idle  Comments"  is  a  volume  made  up  of  the  miscella- 
neous writings  of  Mr.  Avery,  who  during  his  service  with 
the  Observer  ran  each  Monday  morning  a  column  of  philo- 
sophical musings,  humorous  comments  and  human  interest 
narratives  under  the  general  head,  "Idle  Comments."  The 
collection  embraced  in  the  book,  however,  is  not  confined 
to  what  appeared  in  that  feature,  the  other  notable  writings 
also  being  selected  from  his  work  on  the  paper.  The  book 
was  edited  by  Dr.  Edward  Mims,  head  of  the  department 
of  English  literature  at  Trinity  College,  and  later  at  the 
University,  now  a  member  of  the  faculty  of  Vanderbilt 
University  and  so  admirably  executed  is  the  work  that  this 
volume  appears  as  if  it  had  been  written  in  just  the  order 
in  which  it  appears  by  Mr.  Avery. — Charlotte  Observer. 

With  the  rush  of  the  Christmas  season  driving  his  force 
to  work  day  and  night,  and  with  his  own  hands  filled  with 
tasks  unfinished,  the  writer  has  sat  for  two  hours  idly  turn- 
ing the  leaves  of  the  book  that  holds  for  posterity  the 
charm  of  Avery's  pen  and  the  fascination  of  his  personality. 

If  there  is  another  of  North  Carolina's  sons  whose  pen 
has  the  power  to  move  and  to  charm  as  does  Avery's,  we 
have  not  found  him.  And  if  there  is  any  book,  of  the 
thousands  turned  off  the  presses  of  the  nation  this  year, 
wherein  one  hears  the  voices  of  the  children  or  catches  so 
really  the  fragrance  of  flowers,  we  have  not  seen  it. 

What  present  for  Christmas  is  so  appropriate  as  a  book? 
What  book  could  be  bestowed  with  better  taste  than 
Avery's  "Idle  Comments,''  which  truly  breathes  a  Christ- 
mas Spirit? — Elizabeth  City  Advance. 

STONE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 
Charlotte,  N.C. 


"  Songs  Merry  and  Sad  " 

By  John  Charles  McNeill.  Sixth  edition.  Cloth,  $i.oo 
net.  By  mail  $i.o6.  Limp  Leather  (Brown 
Ooze  Calf,  bound  "  Roycroftie,")  $1.50  postpaid. 

Some  Press  and  Other  Comments 

'*  I  have  read  after  Mr.  McNeill  and  I  have  enjoyed  his  work." 
—  Theodore  Roosevelt. 

"  The  published  poems  of  John  Charles  McNeill  are  said  to 
be  meeting  with  a  ready  sale.  The  fact  is  a  compliment  to 
the  literary  taste  of  North  Carolina  people." — Editorial  in 
Greensboro  Telegram. 

"  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  in  the  realm  of  pure  poetry  no 
more  satisfying  volume  than  this  has  been  published  in  the  United 
States  in  a  decade." — Norfolk  Landmark. 

"  It  is  a  neat  book  and  contains  fifty-nine  poetic  gems  from 
the  pen  of  Mr.  McNeill.  It  is  a  fortunate  thing  that  they  have 
been  grouped  into  book  form  that  they  can  better  be  preserved 
and  in  that  shape  constitute  a  lasting  and  valuable  contribution 
to  North  Carolina  literature." — Editorial  in  the  Wilmington  Star. 

"  His  work  I  think  is  the  most  ambitious  and  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  all  Southern  verse  writers  of  the  day." — Intermeiu  in 
Birmingham  Age-Herald. 

"One  must  go  across  the  Atlantic  to  Stephen  Phillips  to  find 
80  tender  a  note  and  so  deft  a  touch  as  Mr.  McNeill  here  reveals." 
-—Editorial  in  the  Biblical  Recorder. 

"  Seems  to  have  in  him  the  making  of  a  great  poet." —  Editorial 
in  Progressive  Farmer. 

"  He  is  one  of  the  rarest  literary  geniuses  we  have  in  the 
South." — Editorial  in  the  Raleigh  Christian  Advocate. 

"  The  verses  in  this  volume  have  about  them  that  indefinable 
quality  which  distinguishes  poetry  from  mere  verse.  The  work- 
manship is  so  good  that  one  almost  doubts  sometimes  whether 
it  is  not  only  the  perfection  of  technique  that  allures  and  whether 
the  true  soul  of  the  poet  is  really  here  and  not  only  the  hand  of 
the  artist.    But  as  we  read  on  we  begin  to  see  that  the  singer's 

I 


ips  have  indeed  been  touched  with  the  glowing  coal  from  the 
true  altar  of  song.  We  congratulate  Mr.  McNeill  on  this 
charming  volume."—  Charleston  Neivs  and  Courier 

''His  discrimination  was  splendid -he  embraces  in  this  volume 

tJ^Vr  ^"  ^';  ""'"''"•  ^^  ^°^^  ^^"^  ^«  ^he  genius  of 
North  Carolina,  and  this  little  volume  justifies  the  claim."- 
tditorial  in  the  Charlotte  Observer. 

"  The  delicious  Southern  flavor  and  the  tender  touches  of  the 
old  plantation  life  make  it  especially  refreshing  to  our  Southern 
people.  It  IS  the  very  cream  of  the  work  of  the  young  author, 
which  has  brought  him  the  favor  of  the  public  in  so  great  a 

Trt\  V"  ^r'!""'^^  ^'''  ^^°"^  ^^^^^^^^^"'  ^"^  ^^  -  touched 
in  faultless  English  and  reveals  the  highest  gifts  of  the  poet."- 
Editorial  in  Chanty  and  Children. 

"  Mr.  McNeill  is  fast  becoming  one  of  the  leading  writers  of 
the  South."- £^,/,n^/  in  the  Clarkton  Express. 

.1, ''  Q '  u^'  ^!^'1  f  ^''  ^""^  '^"'  ^'^  '^°^^  ^h°  ^re  hoping  that 
the  South   shall   have   in   him  the  poet  who  shall   speak  to  the 

heart  of  the  ^orW^- Editorial  in  the  Presbyterian  Standard. 

In  the  death  of  John  Charles  McNeill  the  State  loses  the  finest 
poetic  genius  ever  born  within  its  borders." 

"  But  not  one  of  these  was  the  equal  of  McNeill.  He  surpassed 
them  in  natural  endowment,  in  range  and  delicacy  of  sympathy, 
in  lovmg  familiarity  with  the  homes  and  habits  of  woodland 
things,  in  subtle  knowledge  of  the  great  primal  emotions  of  the 
heart,  and  in  that  still  rarer  gift  of  craftsmanship,  without  which 
the  greatest  genius  must  remain  inarticulate.  McNeill  was  a 
poet  because  he  looked  life  straight  in  the  eyes,  felt  the  virgin 
wonder  and  glory  of  it  all,  and  knew  how  to  body  forth  his 
feelings  m  lines  of  exquisite  art  and  compelling  appeal.  I  would 
rather  have  written  '  Songs,  Merry  and  Sad,'  than  to  have  the 
costliest  monument  in  the  state  erected  to  my  memory.  The  equal 
ot  that  little  volume  has  not  appeared  in  the  South  since  Sidney 
l^anier  fell  on  sleep  twentysix  years  ago,"-  C,  dlphonso  Smith 


Lyrics  From  Cotton  Land 

Third  Edition,  with  portrait  and  a  short  biographical 
sketch  of  the  author,  artistically  bound  in  Bandana 
Cloth.  Illustrated  with  five  drawings  by  the  cele- 
brated artist  made  famous  by  his  "Coon"  dray^- 
ings,  E.  W.  Kemble,  one  picture  by  A.  B.  Frost, 
and  eight  photographs  by  Mrs.  W.  O.  Kibble,  among 
them  a  photograph  of  cotton  showing  bloom,  full 
boll  and  open  boll  on  the  same  stalk.  Price  $1.50 
postpaid. 

Orders  for  this  book  have  come  from  all  sections 
of  the  United  States  and  Canada.  It  is  easily  the 
most  distinctively  Southern  book  ever  published, 

"  *  Lyrics  from  Cotton  Land '  will  remain  a  priceless  legacy  to 
the  children  of  the  South.  It  is  a  voice  that  had  become  almost 
a  memory.  It  is  a  key  to  the  treasure  house  of  a  period  fast 
receding.  It  glorifies  with  simple  and  soulful  melody  '  the 
tender  grace  of  a  day  that  is  dead.*  '  Uncle  Remus,'  up  to 
the  advent  of  the  brilliant  young  Scotchman,  was  the  most  faithful 
and  accurate  exponent  of  *  Mr.  Nigger '  in  the  realm  of  letters, 
but  Joel  Chandler  Harris  is  not  a  whit  more  life-like  in  his  por- 
trayal of  the  language  as  well  as  of  the  spirit  of  the  old  time 
darkey  than  John   Charles  McNeill." —  Charity  and  Children. 

"Joel  Chandler  Harris  has  the  black  man  down  perfectly; 
John  Charles  McNeill  puts  down  the  black  man's  thoughts  and 
language  with  perfect  fidelity;  and  as  an  interpreter  of  his 
thoughts  and  dialect,  H.  E.  C.  Bryant  is  scarcely  inferior  to 
either." — J.  P.  CaldiveU,  in  the  Charlotte  Observer. 

"  Seldom  have  we  seen  a  book  which  has  more  charm  and 
fascination  than  '  Lyrics  from  Cotton  Land,'  by  the  late  John 
Charles  McNeill;  seldom  a  book  of  its  character  with  a  wider 
range.  Not  only  are  the  songs  of  the  South  sung  as  they  are 
rarely  sung,  but  throughout  is  a  touch  of  pathos  and  humor 

3 


which  makes  the  heart  throb  and  clothes  lifers  stern  responsibilities 
with    new    meaning." — Pinehurst    Outlook. 

"  If  anyone  ever  says  to  you  again  that  the  South  does  not 
produce  beautiful  books,  you  are  hereby  authorized  to  state  that 

that  person  is  a mistaken.     You  will  only,  for  instance,  have 

to  refer  him  to  Stone  &  Barringer  Co.,  of  Charlotte,  N.  C,  who 
has  sent  for  review  among  other  volumes,  a  book,  '  Lyrics  from 
Cotton  Land,'  by  John  Charles  McNeill,  which  is  as  tastily 
produced,  attractive  in  appearance  and  appropriately  bound 
as  any  book  this  scribe  has  seen  in  a  long  time." — Birmingham 
Age-Herald. 

"  Tinctured  with  the  quaint  spirit  of  the  South,  *  Lyrics  from 
Cotton  Land '  contains  ninety-seven  poems,  and  every  one  of 
them  is  worth  thoughtful  reading." — San  Francisco  Examiner. 

"  Two  years  ago  John  Charles  McNeill  died  and  was  buried 
near  the  home  of  his  parents  in  Scotland  county,  but  he  is  not 
forgotten,  for  he  left  behind  a  monument  more  lasting  than  stone. 
The  friends  of  the  charming  young  Scotchman  with  the  poetic 
gift,  did  not  begin  to  realize  his  real  worth  until  after  he  had 
passed  away.  His  songs  and  lyrics  are  more  highly  and  genu- 
inely appreciated  to-day  than  they  were  when  they  first  came 
from  his  pen." — H.  E.  C.  Bryant,  in  Charlotte  Observer. 

"A  distinct  pleasure  is  felt  even  in  just  looking  at  the  Ban- 
dana edition  of  John  Charles  McNeill's  *  Lyrics  from  Cotton 
Land.'  It  is  by  far  the  most  attarctive  book  ever  published  in 
the  State.  The  publishers.  Stone  &  Barringer  Co.,  of  Charlotte, 
N.  C,  have  displayed  unusual  taste  in  the  cover.  As  the  name 
'  bandana  edition '  signifies,  it  is  bound  in  gay  bandana  cloth 
with  a  small  round  picture  of  a  true  old  Southern  mammy  on 
the  front  cover.  The  whole  production  is  typically  Southern  and 
unique." — Raleigh  E'vening  Times. 


In  Lovers  Domain 

By  H.  E.  Harman.    Cloth  $1.50.    Limp  Leather  (Green 
Ooze  Calf)  $2.50. 

"  I  want  to  send  you  my  very  sincere  thanks  for  the  great  service 
you  have  done  me  in  sending  me  Mr.  Herman's  *  In  Love's  Do- 
main.' My  long  absence  from  my  native  State  has  caused  me 
to  miss  Mr.  Harman's  work,  and  it  was  a  pleasure  to  find  it  so 
beautiful  and  true.  It  is  not  a  mere  versification  that  I  find  in 
this  book,  but  poetry,  literature  and  noble  feeling  cast  in  noble 
form.  I  hope  you  will  present  my  compliments  to  Mr.  Harman, 
and  express  to  him  my  deep  sense  of  pride  in  his  work  and  ap- 
preciation of  his  thoughtfulness." — Edivin  A.  Alderman,  President 
Unwersity  of  Virginia. 

"  Poet,  publisher  and  printer  have  combined  their  talents  to 
make  an  exquisitely  charming  volume  for  the  book  lovers  out  of 
*  In  Love's  Domain,*  and  they  have  accomplished  their  task.  If 
the  magic  of  the  book-maker  invites  one  to  the  easy  chair  and 
the  fireside,  the  spell  of  the  poet  and  the  art  of  the  engraver 
have  called  indoors  some  of  the  glory  of  the  fields  and  the  woods. 
That  a  North  Carolina  publishing  house  and  a  North  Carolina 
poet  should  produce  a  book  of  poems  in  such  rich  mechanical 
setting  calls  for  due  honor  and  appreciation  of  North  Carolina 
people,  and  this  we  hope  both  author  and  publishers  will  receive 
in  a  measure  at  least  equal  to  their  high  desert." — North  Caro- 
lina Education. 

"  The  verse  of  H.  E.  Harman  has  been  compiled  by  Stone  & 
Barringer  Co.,  of  Charlotte,  and  issued  in  book  form  under  the 
title  of  '  In  Love's  Domain  and  the  Call  of  the  Woods.'  Mr. 
Harman  has  the  gift  of  poetry,  and  his  book  will  charm  and  please 
the  reader  to  the  utmost.  The  illustrations  are  tasteful  and  the 
mechanical  work  neat.  Mr.  Harman  is  a  business  man,  but  takes 
time  to  commune  with  nature  and  the  beautiful  things  of  the 
world,  and  his  verse  is  a  natural  expression  of  the  fine  thoughts 
within  him." — Raleigh  Evening  Times. 

"  There  came  to  our  desk  this  morning  the  sweetest  little  book 
we  have  ever  seen.    So  daintily  bound  that  we  were  sure  that 


within  its  covers  must  be  beautiful  thoughts.    We  opened  it  and 
our  eyes  rested  on  the  following  lines: 

"'When  close  of  day  has  set  the  west  aglow 

And  night  comes  on  with  steady  steps   and  slow, 
I  yearn  for  touch  of  vanished  hand  again 
And  touch  of  lips  as  in  the  long  ago.' 

"  We  read  on  while  the  busy  world  around  us  rushed  on  in 
its  foolish  bustle,  until  our  soul  was  full  of  sweet  thoughts,  and 
we  laid  the  dainty  volume  away  to  be  read  again  and  again 
in  our  home  after  the  shadows  have  caused  the  curtains  to  be 
drawn,  and  we  feel  that  we  have  a  little  treasure  that  will 
brighten  our  life  and  chase  many  gloomy  thoughts  away. 

"  We  thank  the  author,  Mr.  H.  E.  Harman,  a  Southern  man, 
for  giving  to  his  people  a  book  that  is  full  of  beautiful  thoughts, 
and  appreciate  the  kindness  of  the  publishers,  Stone  &  Barringer 
Co.,  of  Charlotte,  N.  C,  in  sending  the  book  our  way.  We 
hope  every  Southern  man  and  woman  will  get  a  copy  of  this 
book." — Burlington  Neivs,  Burlington,  N.  C. 

"  *  In  Love's  Domain '  is  a  most  exquisite  book  of  poems.  All 
the  verses  have  been  given  a  most  artistic  setting,  and  the  illus- 
trations are  beautiful.  No  expense  appears  to  have  been  spared 
by  the  publishers,  and  the  fact  that  a  Southern  publishing  house 
can  bring  out  a  book  of  poems  in  such  expensive  style  shows  that 
the  South  is  coming  into  its  own  in  a  literary  way.  The  author 
of  '  In  Love's  Domain '  is  Southern,  the  making  of  the  book  is 
Southern,  and  in  the  result  every  Southerner  must  feel  a  pride." 
—  Norfolk  Ledger-Dispatch,  Norfolk,  Fa. 

"  *  In  Love's  Domain  '  is  a  triumph  of  Southern  book  making. 
We  have  seen  no  volume  more  artistically  and  beautifully  gotten 
up.  Every  illustration  is  inspiring,  most  of  them  being  from 
photographs.  It  is  a  hopeful  note  for  Southern  literature  that 
such  a  volume  should  come  from  publishers  in  Dixie.  They  are 
to  be  congratulated. 

"The  verses  of  Mr.  Harman  are  exquisite  and  full  deserving 
of  their  artistic  setting. 

"This  book  is  well  worth  while.    It  would  make  a  very  pretty 

6 


Christmas  present." —  Charleston  Ne<ws  and  Courier,  Charleston, 
S.  C. 

"  The  volume  is  nothing  less  than  exquisite.  Binding,  paper, 
typography,  all  are  exactly  in  harmony,  while  no  holiday  book 
on  the  market  for  many  years  has  surpassed  *  In  Love's  Domain  * 
in  beauty  and  aptness  of  illustration.  The  pictures  of  nature 
are  particularly  fine,  those  depicting  landscapes  and  woods  bring- 
ing with  them  the  very  scent  of  the  big  out-of-doors.  The  pub- 
lishers have  fully  appreciated  the  value  of  the  work  they  have 
undertaken  and  have  given  it  a  vehicle  which  leaves  nothing 
to  be  desired.* 

"  There  is  in  his  work  the  breath  of  the  woods  in  spring,  the 
color  of  the  blooming  dogwood,  the  scent  of  the  fields  covered 
with  daisies.  This  world,  judging  by  the  view  of  it  given  in 
his  poetry,  is  to  him  a  place  to  be  enjoyed,  with  plenty  of  sor- 
row mixed  in  to  form  the  necessary  contrast.  His  note  is  sweet 
and  clear,  rather  than  majestic  and  compelling." — Review  in 
Charlotte  Observer. 

"  Mr.  Harman  writes  verse,  not  in  the  spirit  of  the  professional 
writer,  but  because  many  gently  beautiful  things  within  hira 
struggle  for  and  find  beautiful  expression.  The  inner  life  which 
he  combines  with  business  success  shows  how  the  South  may  com- 
bine old  ideals  with  new  material  advancement.  The  published 
volume  is  an  exquisite  thing,  a  thorough  credit  to  the  publishers. 
'  In  Love's  Domain '  belongs  with  the  Avery  and  McNeill  books, 
belongs  in  that  high  lineage." — Editorial  in  Charlotte  Observer. 

"  *  In  Love's  Domain  '  is  an  alluring  volume  of  sweet  simplicities 
from  the  Hills  of  North  Carolina,  issued  by  the  Stone  &  Barringer 
Co.,  of  Charlotte,  N.  C.  This  beautiful  book  is  dedicated  to 
all  *  Who  walk  the  ways  of  sweet  content,  outward  and  back 
again.*  Of  sweetness  and  light  there  is  enough  in  the  modest 
volume,  and  now  and  then  the  poignant  praises  of  genius  is  sung 
in  humble  measure.  H.  E,  Harman  is  the  name  of  this  new  song- 
ster of  the  South,  who  prettily  names  the  domains  of  love  as  an 
'  amber  plain.'  He  will  be  heard  from  in  more  robust  fashion 
again,  no  doubt." — Jacksonville  Sunday  Times-Union. 


Gates  of  Twilight 

By  H.  E.  Harman.     Cloth  $1.50;  Limp  Leather  $2.50. 

"  If  Harman's  vision  included  to  the  utmost,  the  visible  tangi'-le 
beauties  of  the  world  —  and  no  more  —  much  of  '  The  Gates  of 
Twilight '  would  never  have  been  written. 

"  Versifiers  there  have  been  who  hymned  the  beauties  of  nature 
without  seeming  to  see  anything  therein  but  perfection  of  sensuous 
loveliness,  but  their  work  has  promptly  been  assigned  to  obliv- 
ion. Harman  is  not  of  these.  His  mind  and  heart  thrill  with 
delight  at  the  budding  hawthorn,  or  the  willow-shaded  stream; 
his  soul  instantly  rouses  itself  to  inquire  whether  or  not  there  is 
meaning  behind  these  lovely  shapes." —  From  the  Charlotte  Daily 
Observer. 

"  Whoever  knows  and  loves  the  South  will  find  deep  enjoyment 
in  the  poems  which  Henry  E.  Harman  has  included  in  his  new 
volume.  He  will  also  be  proud  that  a  Southern  publisher  has 
produced  so  beautiful  a  book. 

*'  Mr.  Harman  is  at  his  best  when  he  writes  of  the  South,  its 
natural  charms  and  its  wealth  of  historic  tradition.  Songs  of  the 
South  form  a  goodly  part  of  the  63  poems. 

"  The  book  is  bound  in  the  daintiest  blue,  and  the  photographs 
of  Southern  woodland  scenery  are  both  attractive  and  appropriate 
to  the  text.  There  are  also  several  posed  photographs." — St. 
Louis  Post  Dispatch. 

"  The  keynote  of  this  volume  of  idyls  is  struck  in  the  dedica- 
tion, which  reads: 

"  *  Who  loves  the  sunlight  on  the  hills, 
Who  feels  a  pain  at  human  wrongs, 
Whose  soul  at  childhood's  laughter  thrills, 
For  him  I  sing  these  simple  songs.' 

"  In  many  of  these  poems  the  author  shows  an  advance  over 
his  previously  published  work.  The  same  spontaniety  and  fresh- 
ness obtain,  but  there  is  a  firmer  touch,  a  surer  confidence,  a  more 
daring  flight.  '  The  Fields  of  May '  is,  perhaps,  the  best  of 
the  longer  poems,  being  full  of  beauty  and  musical  value.    AIJ 

8 


are  lofty  and  uplifting.  Two  tributes  to  Southern  poets,  Sidney 
Lanier  and  John  C.  McNeill,  are  found  in  this  volume.  The 
poem  '  The  Master  In  the  Garden '  is  strongly  suggestive  of 
Lanier's  '  Ballad  of  Trees  and  the  Master,'  and  is  worthy  of 
its  subject,  strong  and  dignified.  The  illustrations  are  from 
photographs,  and  those  of  scenes  from  nature  are  very  attrac- 
tive, and  add  to  the  charm  of  the  book." —  NeiJJ  Orleans  Picayune. 

"  A  most  beautiful  piece  of  book-making.  Sixty  or  more  verses 
with  many  exquisite  illustrations  interspersed.  The  illustrations 
are  from  photographs,  the  most  being  scenes  of  our  southern 
woodland,  field,  marsh  and  mountain.  Especially  fair  is  the  one 
*  The  Pictured  Glory  of  the  Dogwood  Trees,'  *  Spring  Along 
the  Fair  Savannah,'  and  'Willow,  My  Willow'  are  also  very 
beautiful.  Many  of  the  poems  are  written  in  an  admirable  spirit 
of  patriotism,  *  Pickett's  Charge,'  *  Gettysburg,'  *  The  Sound  of 
Sumter's  Gun.' 

"  One  of  the  most  excellent  pictures  is  that  of  the  live  oak  at 
Brunswick,  Ga.  Under  this  tree  Sidney  Lanier  is  said  to  have 
written  his  *  Marshes  of  Glynn.'  The  tree  is  known  the  country 
round  as  'Lanier's  Oak.'" — Birmingham,  Alabama,  Age-Heralds 


"  Tar  Heel  Tales  " 

By  H.  E.  C.  Bryant  ("Red  Buck").  Price,  Cloth  (North 
Carolina,  Brown  checked  Gingham),  $1.25  net. 
By  mail  $1.35. 

Personal  Letters  (Published  by  Permission) 

"  I  thank  you  heartily  for  the  copy  of  '  Tar  Heel  Tales.'  The 
binding  is  unique  and  very  attractive;  the  illustrations  are  ex- 
cellent and  illustrate.  The  best  compliment  that  I  can  pay  to 
the  contents  is  to  say  that  I  took  the  book  home  the  evening  afer 
receiving  it,  and  dipped  into  one  of  the  little  stories  experimentally 
after  supper,  and  read  story  after  story,  finding  it  impossible 
to  lay  the  book  aside  until  after  eleven  o'clock,  and  then  laid  it 
aside  only  under  orders  from  Mrs.  Joyner.  I  trust  that  it  will 
have  the  wide  sale  it  deserves." — J.  Y.  Joyner,  Supt.  Public  In- 
struction, Raleigh,  N.  C. 

"  Your  '  Tar  Heel  Tales '  are  delightful.  They  are  as  good 
negro  dialect  stories  as  have  ever  been  put  into  print.  This  is 
the  first  book  I  have  read  at  one  sitting  in  a  long  time.  I  hope 
that  this  is  not  the  last  one  that  you  will  write." — Champ  Clark. 

"  I  have  just  finished  reading  *  Tar  Heel  Tales,'  and  am  de- 
lighted with  it.  The  stories  are  bright  and  sparkling,  the  humor 
is  delicate  and  refined.  The  negro  dialect  is  such  as  only  a 
genuine  Southerner  can  write.  It  is  none  of  the  '  make-believe 
sort'  so  often  found  in  books  by  authors  unacquainted  with  the 
negro  at  home." —  IV.  R.  Mills,  Supt.  Public  Schools,  Louisburg, 
N.  C. 

"  Your  stories  are  delightful,  strongly  written  and  true  to  the 
character  of  place  and  people.  I  think  that  I  have  read  *  Uncle 
Ben's  Last  Fox  Race '  ten  times  and  I  shall  read  it  willingly 
ten  times  more,  knowing  that  after  that  I  shall  still  have  the 
determination  to  be  a  *  repeater.* 

"  I  do  not  know  the  negro  as  you  know  him,  but  I  have,  I 
think  a  much  truer  knowledge  of  him  and  his  ways  now  that  I 
have  read  *  Tar  Heel  Tales.'  Every  Northern  man,  and  I  am 
one,  should  read  your  story  *  A  Negro  and  His  Friend.'  I  have 
several  book  cases  given  over  entirely  to  nature  books.  '  Tar 
Heel  Tales '  shall  have  a  chief  place  among  them." —  Edward  B. 
Clark,  Chicago  Evening  Post,  Washington  Correspondent, 

10 


A  prominent  educator  says  of  Mr.  Bryant:  "As  a  writer  of 
negro  dialect,  I  do  not  place  him  next  to  Uncle  Rumus  —  Joel 
Chandler  Harris  —  but  absolutely  his  equal;  his  negroes  do  not 
use  stage  negro  talk,  but  they  talk,  think,  and  act  like  the  niggers 
I  knew  as  a  boy  on  my  father's  farm." 

Press  notices  of  "Tar  Heel  Tales"  have  been  numerous  and 
kind. 

Here  are  a  few  extracts: 

"  The  book  is  mechanically  an  interesting  product  of  the  book- 
maker's art.  The  printing,  paper  and  binding  are  all  good. 
The  cloth  covering  used  is  a  brown  checked  gingham,  and  the 
title  '  Tar  Heel  Tales '  is  twined  about  with  a  burry  pine  bough 
stamped  in  green  and  pine-bark  brown." — North  Carolina  Edu- 
cation, Raleigh,  N.  C. 

"  Mr.  H.  E.  C.  Bryant,  of  Charlotte  and  Washington,  knows 
how  to  tell  a  good  story  well.  Story-telling  with  him  is  a  gift 
and  an  art.  In  the  old  days  when  he  was  still  a  bare-footed, 
red  headed,  freckle-faced  farmer  boy,  even  then,  he  knew  how 
to  tell  a  story,  and  wherever  the  boys  gathered  in  the  Providence 
section,  young  Bryant  was  the  magnet  around  which  the  others 
were  attracted,  and  when  he  talked,  and  that  was  usually  all  the 
time,  the  others  listened.  His  powers  in  the  way  of  story  telling 
were  a  source  of  wonder  and  admiration  to  the  other  boys.  This 
natural  gift  he  has  cultivated  until  now  he  tells  or  writes  a  story 
that  will  appeal  to  and  hold  anyone.  His  stories  of  the  negro 
and  of  the  old  days  and  of  fox  hunts,  of  which  sport  he  is  a 
past-master,  have  long  attracted  attention  and  because  of  the 
place  they  have  gained  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  and  the  in- 
sistent demand  for  them  have  at  last  been  issued  in  book  form. 
*  Tar  Heel  Tales '  is  the  name  of  the  book  which  is  now  presented 
to  the  public." — Evening  Times,  Raleigh,  N.  C. 

"  The  book  is  a  sure  enough  Tar  Heel  production.  The  writer 
is  a  red-headed  Tar  Heel.  It  is  dedicated  to  Mr.  J.  P.  Caldwell, 
the  well  known  Tar  Heel  editor.  It  is  published  by  Stone  & 
Barringer  Co.,  of  Charlotte,  N.  C,  a  Tar  Heel  book  company.  It 
is  bound  in  checked  gingham,  a  Tar  Heel  production,  and  the 
tales  (and  they  are  good  ones),  are  about  Tar  Heel  folks.  If 
you  want  a  book  that  will  put  you  in  a  good  humor  when  you 
tave  a  case  of  the  blues,  get  this  book." — Spring  Hope  Leader, 


The  Breed  and  the  Pasture 

By  J.  Lenoir  Chambers.     Cloth,  Price  $i.oo;  By  Mail 
$i.o6. 

"  In  the  '  Breed  and  the  Pasture '  we  have  certain  features  of 
an  easily  recognized  piedmont  community,  sketched  by  the  pen 
of  one  who  knows  and  loves  it  well. 

"  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  article  to  abstract  or  summarize 
what  this  exquisite  set  of  essays  contains.  No  one  who  is  in- 
terested in  the  course  of  events  which  have  led  to  the  creation 
of  the  New  South  can  afford  not  to  read  every  line  of  them. 
The  whole  may  be  completed  from  cover  to  cover  in  a  single  un- 
interrupted evening.  This  done,  the  reader  cannot  fail  to  have  a 
clearer  insight  into  the  meaning  of  the  expression  *  down  home  * 
and  to  feel  a  deeper  throbbing  of  the  sentiment  conveyed  in  the 
well  known  lines  beginning,  '  Here's  to  the  land  of  the  long-leaf 
pine.'  Furthermore,  he  will  have  become  acquainted  with  a 
set  of  essays  couched  in  as  clear  and  beautiful  language  as  any 
that  have  appeared  for  many  a  year,  a  style  that,  never  becoming 
stilted  or  over-ornate  continues  from  first  to  last,  lucid,  euphon- 
ious, charming.' 

"  The  '  Woman  of  the  South '  has  been  toasted  at  countless 
banquets,  has  been  lauded  in  thousands  of  fulsome,  yet  heart- 
felt words.  Scores  and  even  hundreds  of  tributes  spring  to  mind. 
In  all  the  articles  this  reviewer  has  ever  read  dealing  with  this 
favorite  topic,  there  is  not  a  single  one  which  equals  Mr.  Cham- 
bers' chapter  entitled  '  The  Forgotten  Woman,'  in  beauty  of 
conception  and  delicacy  of  execution. 

"  The  apologists  for  the  South  have  too  frequently  over-empha- 
sized the  *  story  of  the  glory  of  the  men  who  wore  the  gray ' 
to  such  an  extent  that  economic  phenomena  have  been  thrust  to 
one  side  or  entirely  neglected.  The  chapter  mentioned  is  a 
dispassionate  and  philosophical  statement,  not  of  a  partisan,  but 
of  a  cool-headed,  practical  man  of  affairs,  of  how  matters  look 
to  him  from  a  retrospect  of  nearly  half  a  century  after  Appomat- 
tox. The  defects  of  the  Southerner  are  not  minimized  any  more 
than  are  the  undoubted  virtues  of  the  Puritan  omitted  and  the 

12 


tesult  IS  a  distinct  contribution  to  the  philosophy  of  the  history  of 
the  Civil  War." — Review  in  Charlotte  Observer. 

"  Mr.  Chambers,  whatever  his  personal  experience,  could  not 
have  written  as  he  has  done  without  fine  selective  imagination 
joined  to  graceful  style.  No  prosy  reminiscences  here,  but  the 
firm  touch  of  a  man  who  has  only  reached  the  prime  of  his  life, 
and  whom  years  may  never  make  old.  His  are  different  pictures 
from  those  which  the  public  justly  grew  tired  of  long  ago.  We 
find  them  delightful.  Evanston,  the  town  which  Mr.  Chambers 
describes,  with  its  neighboring  county  seat,  will  be  recognized 
at  once  by  many  people.  Most  of  his  characters  belong  to  this 
present  generation  —  Isaac  Erwin  Avery  among  them." —  EditO' 
rial  in  Charlotte  Observer, 


13 


Memoir  of  Julia  Jackson  Christian 

Daughter  of  "  Stonewall  "  Jackson,  by  M.  A.  Jackson 
(her  mother).  Charlotte,  N.  C.  Cloth,  50  cents, 
net. 

"Stonewall"  Jackson's  Daughter 

"This  is  an  interesting  and  pious  little  memorial  of  the  only 
child  of  '  Stonewall '  Jackson's  that  survived  infancy,  Julia  Jackson, 
afterward  Mrs.  Christian.  Julia  was  born  in  Charlotte,  N.  C, 
November  23rd,  1862,  while  her  illustrious  father  was  at  the 
front.  As  General  Jackson  never  left  the  army  on  furlough, 
his  little  daughter  was  four  months  old  before  he  saw  her,  when 
her  mother  took  her  to  his  camp,  then  at  Guiney's,  Va. 

"  The  brief  story  is  simply  but  tenderly  and  lovingly  written, 
and  it  should  be  valued  by  thousands  of  '  Confederate '  mothers 
and  daughters.  The  book  contains  a  number  of  interesting  let- 
ters and  much  information  concerning  Stonewall  Jackson  and  his 
home  life." —  Columbia  State. 

"  This  memorial  of  the  brief  life  of  Stonewall  Jackson's  only 
child,  written  by  the  great  soldier's  venerable  widow,  cannot 
fail  to  stir  the  heart  of  every  Southern  reader  to  whose  hands  it 
comes. 

"  It  is  written  with  the  same  purity  and  simplicity  of  style 
which  delighted  us  in  the  Life  of  Gen.  T.  J.  Jackson,  from  the 
same  pen. 

"  Even  if  we  did  not  know  her  for  a  hero's  daughter,  the  beau- 
tiful life  so  beautifully  told  in  this  dainty  volume  would  deeply 
interest  us.  But  when  we  realize  to  whose  intimacy  we  are  here 
admitted,  we  welcome  this  memoir  with  a  glow  of  grateful  en- 
thusiasm."—  Charlotte  Observer. 

"  This  book,  like  this  article,  is,  of  course,  intensely  personal. 
Mrs.  Jackson  has  simply  taken  the  people  whom  she  loves  into 
her  heart  and  told  them  a  simple  story  of  her  *  holy  of  holies.' 
The  people  of  the  south  will  appreciate  the  confidence  and  love 
the  Story." — Raleigh  Times. 


14 


"DIARY  OF  A  TAR  HEEL  CONFEDERATE 

SOLDIER" 

By  Louis  Leon.  Cloth.     Price  $1.00  net. 

This  Diary  is  not  ambitious  in  a  literary  way,  and  it  lays 
claim  to  no  greater  than  it's  face  value,  that  of  a  simple 
record  of  the  work  and  play,  joy  and  sorrow,  deeds  and 
misdeeds,  of  a  private-of-the-line  on  the  Southern  side  of 
the  great  Civil  War.  It  does  not  possess  the  polish  of 
the  classics  and  is  even  sometimes  ungrammatical;  but 
that  in  itself  helps  to  make  it  as  engaging  a  little  volume 
as  one  may  soon  find,  and  it  will  hardly  be  laid  aside 
before  a  complete  perusal.  It's  great  attractiveness  lies  in 
it's  absolute  naivete.  The  narrative  is  entirely  artless  and 
as  genuine  and  unspoiled  as  a  wild  rose.  It  comes  direct 
from  the  heart  of  L.  Leon,  When  he  says  that  the  girls 
in  a  near-by  factory  "made  up  for  the  damp  ground"  of 
the  camp,  we  know  it  is  literal  truth;  we  are  charmed 
with  his  sincerity  when  he  says:  "We  got  some  whisky 
into  the  camp  which  tasted  very  good  and  made  us  forget 
the  cold";  and  we  laugh  outright  at  his  tale  of  running 
down  and  quartering  a  farmer's  shoat"  which  he  carried 
back  to  camp  in  his  haversack.  Flashes  of  inimitable 
native  humor  illumine  what  would  else  be  a  pathetic  record 
of  hardship:  as  his  story  of  finding  two  chickens  in  a 
deserted  yard  which  he  says,  "we  captured,  for  we  were 
afraid  they  would  bite  us";  the  statement  "we  laid  all  night 
among  the  dead  Yankees,  but  they  did  not  disturb  our 
peaceful  slumbers";  and  "Hugh  Sample  and  myself  were 
out  on  a  forage,  and  milked  a  cow  in  his  hat,  the  only 
thing  we  had."  Most  appealing  to  Southerners  is  the  fine 
reverence  with  which  he  (a  Jew)  speaks  of  "our  father" 
Gen.  Lee.  He  says:  Our  father,  Lee,  was  scarcely  ever 
out  of  sight  when  there  was  danger.  We  could  not  feel 
gloomy  when  we  saw  his  old  grey  head  uncovered  as  he 
would  pass  us  on  the  march,  or  be  with  us  in  a  fight.  I 
care  not  how  weary  or  hungry  we  were,  when  we  saw 
him,  we  gave  that  Rebel  yell,  and  hunger  and  wounds  were 
forgotten."  Leon's  Diary  is  an  addition  to  Southern  tradi- 
tions. Such  an  intimate,  genuine  record  of  the  daily  camp 
life  and  battle  life  of  an  average  "Rebel"  lad,  from  the 
first  "long  roll"  which  called  to  Bethel,  to  the  rat  infested 
and  small-pox  plagued  prison  at  Elmyra,  N.  Y.,  where  so 
many  learned  the  crushing  news  of  Lee's  surrender,  is 
not  to  be  passed  by  lightly. — North  Carolina  Education. 


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